2747 lines
120 KiB
Plaintext
2747 lines
120 KiB
Plaintext
Living in such a state taTestaTesTaTe etats a hcus ni gniviL
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of mind in which time sTATEsTAtEsTaTeStA emit hcihw ni dnim of
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does not pass, space STateSTaTeSTaTeStAtE ecaps ,ssap ton seod
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does not exist, and sTATeSt oFOfOfo dna ,tsixe ton seod
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idea is not there. STatEst ofoFOFo .ereht ton si aedi
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Stuck in a place staTEsT OfOFofo ecalp a ni kcutS
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where movements TATeSTa foFofoF stnemevom erehw
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are impossible fOFoFOf elbissopmi era
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in all forms, UsOFofO ,smrof lla ni
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physical and nbEifof dna lacisyhp
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or mental - uNBeInO - latnem ro
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your mind is UNbeinG si dnim rouy
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focusing on a unBEING a no gnisucof
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lone thing, or NBeINgu ro ,gniht enol
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a lone nothing. bEinGUn .gnihton enol a
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You are numb and EiNguNB dna bmun era ouY
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unaware to events stneve ot erawanu
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taking place - not -iSSuE- ton - ecalp gnikat
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knowing how or what TWENTY-EIGHT tahw ro woh gniwonk
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to think. You are in 07/31/96 ni era uoY .kniht ot
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a state of unbeing.... ....gniebnu fo etats a
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--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
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CONTENTS OF THiS iSSUE
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=----------------------=
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EDiTORiAL Kilgore Trout
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LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
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STAFF LiSTiNGS
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[=- ARTiCLES -=]
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EVERY CHiLD NEEDS THE MEDiA Clockwork
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THE CONFESSiONS
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Excerpts from the Early Magickal Diaries Nemo est Sanctus
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A TREATiSE ON CHAOS PENETRATiON I Wish My Name Were Nathan
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SLiNG THAT BANDWiDTH, PART I Clockwork
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MiND PROBE #5: Hagbard Noni Moon
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[=- FiCTiON -=]
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ROY AND KiM RUN A HiGH-SCHOOL PHONE-SEX SERViCE I Wish My Name Were Nathan
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A WORKiNG MAN CAN BE A HAPPY MAN, BUT AN AIMLESS MAN IS FREE Kilgore Trout
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CATCH A SIGNAL, CATCH A COLD, CATCH A MOVIE I Wish My Name Were Nathan
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WASTED TiME I Wish My Name Were Nathan
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--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
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EDiTORiAL
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by Kilgore Trout
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I've always wondered why I have such an aversion to raising kids.
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Besides the fact that I'm only twenty, I have this strong gut feeling that it
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would be an extremely extremely bad experience. Now I think I know why. I
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think I'd have a hard time NOT being honest with a young child and instead of
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letting the kid grow up believing in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and how
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great a country America is, I'd have to tell him or her the truth.
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I never really trusted my parents much after they told me that Santa
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Claus wasn't real. It shattered a whole belief system I held just like that.
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Nobody had introduced me to logic, I was six, and I believed in an
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anthropomorphic god who also had a long white beard.
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People say that holiday figures are a way for kids to have fun, to give
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them something to believe in. Why do they need something imaginary? Could it
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be that you don't HAVE anything real for them to grab onto? Why not tell them
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the truth? Is it better to let them wait until they leave home and go, "Holy
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shit, this really does suck." Was it worth 18 years of a good, sheltered life
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only to have it torn down? Or would it be better to prepare them, educate
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them, tell them how it is? I would have appreciated that. I would have
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appreciated being treated like an adult.
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Maybe some people might say I wanted to grow up too fast. I just wanted
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to know the truth, to know what else might be a myth or a lie. Is that too
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much to ask? Or will we fill our kids heads with more fat men in red suits
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just to protect them? If you want them to be innocent for their whole life,
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you'll have to start killing them young.
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How's that for some Christmas in July spirit?
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-SoB-
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Clockwork is back! Yup, the guy we've been kidding and prodding for the
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past year and a half has written not one but two articles. We formally
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welcome him back into the fold. Nemo shows us another excerpt from his
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magickal diaries, and Noni Moon interviews Hagbard, who is either lost in
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space or already there and never told us. Nathan has some boffo fiction that
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will make your ribs hurt from laughing AND a treatise on chaos penetration,
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and I wrote a story. Hrmmph.
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-SoB-
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All of the issues on our web site are now available in an HTML format,
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so if you like to jump around issues, you'll like it. The text versions are
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still there as well. Also, just as a reminder, you can get on the SoB
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distribution list by sending me mail <kilgore@bga.com> and telling me why you
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deserve to be on the list.
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My email account will be dead from the 22nd of August until September 1st
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or so, as I am going off to college, so after that time send all email to
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hagbard@io.com and I'll get it. I'll put my new email address on the SoB web
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page. Enough of the technical stuff. On with the issue.
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--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
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LETTERS TO THE EDiTOR
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Readers of SoB,
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I want to apologize for mistakes made in my story "Marshall gets a
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mindfuck" in SoB #27. I was attempting to be piddlingly precise in placing
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the story in real time, but failed.
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As it turns out, only the dates managed to bear the scrutiny. Somehow,
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on the other hand, the days of the week had nothing at all to do with reality.
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I don't know why I didn't bother to look at a calendar.
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So, please ignore the implied association between the days of the week and
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the dates of the month in June, July, and August 1996. The sociological
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associations between such concepts as "Friday" and "the end of the week" still
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stand. So do the dates. It is very important that no one get confused.
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-- Nathan
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P.S. If you think this is just a cheap attempt to get people to re-read the
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story, then I challenge you to go ahead and see if you're right.
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--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
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STAFF LiSTiNG
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EDiTOR
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Kilgore Trout
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CONTRiBUTORS
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Clockwork
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I Wish My Name Were Nathan
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Nemo est Sanctus
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Noni Moon
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--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
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[=- ARTiCLES -=]
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--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
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EVERY CHiLD NEEDS THE MEDiA
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by Clockwork
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Who do you think did it?
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What do you think is true?
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In a time when a high percentage of the media is controlled by a small
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number of organizations, one can easily assume extreme bias and/or censorship
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prevents the complete truth from sweeping the country. The national media is
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an extremely powerful tool which is taken as the word of God by the people in
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most any situation. And when government agencies or political figures are
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involved, opinions and facts are most surely swayed, which in turn causes the
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people to sway with it.
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It is difficult to evaluate media involvement and the accuracy of their
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reporting during the first few moments of any emergency or disaster
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news-worthy enough for national attention. From one angle, one can say a
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majority, or at least some, of the details being reported are accurate, for
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the reporters and journalists are on the scene as it may happen -- they know
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what is going on. They have first hand accounts of events, and can pursue
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issues further as soon as they occur, reporting immediately to the public with
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their findings. This occurs before any kind of censorship is brought down
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upon them, whether it be government officials/organizations telling them
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otherwise, or network suits who frolic in the upper echelons with the powers
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that be. From another angle, one can point out that in the first moments of
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such emergencies or disasters, there is much commotion and emotion, and the
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press is on a rampage to get information out of anyone, whether it be right or
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wrong.
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To each his own. I am sure you can apply both at once quite easily and
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end up with the winning formula.
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Reuters, an international news company serving 154 countries, reported
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"hundreds of casualties" in the explosion at Centennial Park, with a witness
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reporting he saw a blue flash and "police were yelling for people to get down,
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that it was a bomb." This was reported within 30 minutes of the explosion.
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Also within 30 minutes, EmergencyNet News Service
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(http://www.emergency.com), part of the Emergency Response and Research
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Institute in Chicago, declared the police are saying an "explosion" has
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occurred near a stage in the park, with at least 100 people injured, and the
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cause being unknown.
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Within 30 - 45 minutes of the bombing, the Atlanta Fire Department
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reported at least 150 to 200 injuries because of the blast. More eyewitnesses
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were also quoted stating it was a trash can that exploded, some saying they
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watched it blow up. Others reported seeing the police trying to clear people
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out of the park before the explosion.
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In the short-wave radio world, several people had broadcast statements
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that several athletes were injured in the blast, specifically members of the
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U.S. women's gymnastics team, and unconfirmed reports of four dead. However,
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suspicion of object being a pipe bomb was also related to the public, as were
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comments from a technician who was told to move away from the tower because
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police had found a suspicious package.
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EmergencyNet News, approximately an hour after the blast, released
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unconfirmed reports of at least two U.S. Olympic athletes being injured.
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Another unconfirmed report, from a state law enforcement officer, reported
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casualties. ENN went into details of the NBC cameraman being asked to move
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away from the tower, and how local EMS officials say as many as 150 people may
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have been injured, with around 25 ambulances responding.
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CNN reported the finding of two additional explosive devices around the
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same time.
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Reuters went on to report 8 being dead, 165 injured, and 3 additional
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explosive devices were found. A short time after, short-wave operators had
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broadcast the report from Reuters, but stated 6 additional explosive devices
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were discovered in or near the park.
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Almost immediately after, Reuters issued another report stating only one
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was dead and at least 50 injured.
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CNN and various local radio stations in the world I live in also reported
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four or five casualties are a few hours after the incident, later on changing
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this to one confirmed casualty.
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Obviously, much of the information reported above is incorrect, or at
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least has reported to be incorrect by the mass media within two or three hours
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of the bombing. Around that point in time, the media seemed to all agree on a
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standard story -- one dead, 50 - 60 injured. And the number injured slowly
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increased as the evening went on.
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Censorship? Perhaps, although somewhat doubtful. In this situation
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where most of the media was not even in the park at all, they had to rely on
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the clumps of people forming in the streets, and the officers and medical crew
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outside the scene, and I would presume a vast majority of the information
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being reported came from these sources. Vastly unreliable sources, I might
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add.
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And so, the media frenzy calms down a bit, things become accurately
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reported for the most part, and newspapers around the country try to figure
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out how they are going to run this story at 3:00 in the morning. Of course,
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for the entire weekend, the world is blitzed with information relating to the
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bombing, including CNN and NBC specials running video and audio of the bombing
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every two minutes, with interviews of various unimportant players in the
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drama. At this point in time, it dawns on me that I am rather unhappy with
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the situation.
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As soon as incident was first reported, the majority of the media threw
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out to the country the very unofficial opinion of the explosive being a pipe
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bomb. This with no facts, observations, information, or signs from God to back
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it up. This with virtually no media directly at the location of the bombing
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for very long at all. They just naturally assumed it was a pipe bomb, for
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some unknown reason, or was fed this information by someone(s). Within 3
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hours of the bombing, the major networks would casually mention possible links
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to militias within the United States when discussing who could have possibly
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done this, and the very next day, every newspaper I picked up contained
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references to the same. In the New York Times, there was a large article
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concerning the re-examination of the Oklahoma City bombing case and further
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probing into Georgia militias, and even the mention of a connection between
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these two events and the TWA flight.
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I would like to welcome all of you, ladies and gentlemen, to the
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wonderful wet and wild world of propaganda, the greatest show on earth.
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Just as a side note, I have spoken to people from several militias, both
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by phone and through email, and these are not the redneck, white supremacist,
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"blow 'em up," terroristic, abrasive people the media and government portray
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them as. For those of you who disagree, try having a calm intelligent
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conversation with one of them sometime and you may be surprised.
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<...please pause while author's name is added to a list...>
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Putting all that aside, there are some interesting things put forth by
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the media for one to ponder. On the evening of the bombing, CNN reported
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overhearing a police radio conversation stating they had found two other
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explosive devices. CNN then reported that to the public. Over the next hour
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or so, they talked to three other police officers who verified that they did
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in fact find two other explosive devices. One of those included a Fulton
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County Deputy Sheriff. I watched this for hours -- I took notes. This is
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exactly what occurred. And then suddenly, there was no further mention of
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anything about additional devices.
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In any news update, special report, or other broadcast concerning the
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event by CNN, or any other major television network, there has been no
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comments whatsoever about whether there was more than one explosive or not.
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Out of the much printed news I have read since the event, covering the New
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York Times, USA Today, San Francisco Chronicle, San Francisco Examiner, Austin
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American Statesman, and numerous Associate Press and Reuters articles, there
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has been the same -- no mention of it whatsoever.
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Furthermore, when the people were evacuated from the park, they were
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evacuated to approximately a block radius around the area. About an hour
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later, they were pushed back to a two block radius with no explanation from
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authorities.
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And then, of course, in pops the infamous phone call. Supposedly, a
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human being called 911 and warned them of a bomb in Centennial Park that would
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go off in thirty minutes. The FBI described the caller a white male with "an
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indistinguishable accent." Whatever that means.
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I have seen reports the call was made at 1:07 am, giving about 18 minutes
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from then until the explosion. I have seen reports stating there was 27
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minutes between the call and explosion, placing the call at 12:58. I have
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also seen reports stating it was exactly 30 minutes between the two, placing
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the call at 12:55. Which is true? Well, the majority of the media states
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around 1:07am. But who knows.
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New York Times, Austin American Statesman, and some Associated press
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articles consistently state there was a 23 minute difference between the
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discovery of the backpack and detonation of the bomb. If this was the case,
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what the hell were they doing for 20 minutes? Standing around trying to
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figure out if that is the "in backpack" for the upcoming school year? Staring
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at it?
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In a CNN interview with Richard Jewell, the security officer who
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discovered the backpack, Richard states there was about a 5 - 10 minute time
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difference between the time the package was discovered and detonation. This
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seems somewhat more realistic. However, the majority of the media (CNN and
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most of the newspapers mentioned earlier) reports the 911 phone call coming at
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about the same time (with a 2-5 minute difference) the package was discovered
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by the security guard. If this was true, that would place the detonation at
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1:17am at the latest.... some one is not telling the truth.
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Other articles, including a different article in New York Times (they
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seem to be the masters of contradiction within the ranks), state the call was
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made right before the bomb detonated. These people are supposed to report the
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truth, correct?
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Recently, the security guard is being suspected -- mostly by the media --
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as the person responsible for the bombing. Unfortunately, I am not
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well-versed in the information available on that situation, yet, so I won't
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even go into that.
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Who did it? What actually happened? It could be a whaked out guy from
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Dallas who thinks bombs are cool who traveled to Atlanta for the weekend. It
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could be the security guard. It could be the BATF.
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[More side comments -- they were there before the bombing, and are key
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investigators in the case, for some unknown reason. And it has come to my
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attention -- printed in a few local Georgian papers -- that an ATF agent
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admitted, under oath, that an ATF informant buried pipe bombs on the property
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of Georgia militia members and then directed waiting ATF agents to them.]
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The BATF attempting to further the burying militias into the ground, and
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to push Clinton's political career by inspiring the passing of that
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oh-so-humane terrorist act, increasing wiretaps while decreasing privacy and
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human rights.
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[Yet more side comments -- Clinton's anti-terrorist wishes include strong
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sanctions against countries supporting terrorism, intelligence sharing between
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countries, anti-terrorist police training, systematic extradition between
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countries for terrorists (with changes to U.N. policies on granting asylum and
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related acts), increased surveillance of organizations and individuals
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suspected of terrorist involvement, the chemical tracing of explosives, a
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purposed mandatory death-penalty for terrorists, and preventing terrorists
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from using the internet to communicate and spread "bomb-making" information.
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He's pledging to make anti-terrorism an "absolute priority."]
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I can not say, of course. I am only here to cause people to think.
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Here's a man with an imagination (recently grabbed off the Usenet:
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As food for thought... consider this slant on the state of current
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events...
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Two days before the opening act of the Olympics the Air Force
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accidentally blows a commercial 747 into shrapnel with a F-117 Stealth
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in exercises off New York. Damn messy PR problem I should say. (And by
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the way, who was the diplomat on-board with the pouches marked STATE
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DEPARTMENT)
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White House dream team decides to use some smoke and mirrors to
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mis-direct attention as they are so good at doing. A small relatively
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harmless pipe bomb (as bombs go) will do the trick nicely thank you
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very much.
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Realistic? Maybe. Maybe not. If you take into consideration our
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government is involved with this, anything is possible.
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--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
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"Skepticism is the chastity of the intellect, and it is shameful to
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surrender it too soon or to the first comer; there is nobility in
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preserving it coolly and proudly through long youth, until at last, in
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the ripeness of instinct and discretion, it can be safely exchanged for
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fidelity and happiness."
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-- George Santayana
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--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
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THE CONFESSiONS
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Excerpts from the Early Magickal Diaries of Frater Nemo est Sanctus
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"Do not tell lies, and do not do what you hate,
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for all things are plain in the sight of Heaven.
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For nothing hidden will not become manifest,
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and nothing covered will remain without being uncovered."
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Christ, Thom. 6
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FRAGMENTS ON MEMORY
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(Excerpted from two days)
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It seems so mundane to write these things, but these are the things I
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will want to remember someday, I guess. I don't know when. There is no
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solace in my memory. I try to put the past as far behind me as possible. I
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have no plans for the future, either. Some people say children live in the
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future, adults in the present, and the elderly in the past. I think more like
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Las Gustafsson: "For time is mostly for those who still are hoping."
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What happy memories I may have are bitter things, with the knowledge that
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they are past, never to be repeated. So far past, indeed, that I cannot
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remember the last time I truly was happy. Numb, yes; happy, no. I cannot
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|
even recall what it means to be happy. All I remember is misery: An unkind
|
|
word said without thinking; an insult flung at me, with the vile taste of "I
|
|
should have said" closely following; a choice picked wrong in haste. My
|
|
memory is misery after misery, and what good is memory in such a state? True,
|
|
if I lost my memory I'd lose what makes me uniquely Nemo est Sanctus, but I
|
|
could gain the contentment of the imbecile. Instead, I drag behind me an
|
|
incompletely severed leach of a life, the corpse of my old self, draining me
|
|
and paining me and getting more engorged as I shrivel in torment.
|
|
|
|
In the military, every four years we moved. Mistakes could be left
|
|
behind, "friends" left, and I could start afresh. I have wallowed in this
|
|
misery -- sojourned in this Egypt -- for ten years. I have not gotten a
|
|
chance to start again for ten years. I just sit in my wastes as the time
|
|
piles around me. More than anything else, I want to leave my past behind.
|
|
I ... that is what it means when I say I want to die. It is not that I envy
|
|
dying or desire that experience. I simply want never to have lived!
|
|
|
|
My memory is pain, and as my life runs longer my pain grows. Every
|
|
"happy" memory is Tantalus reaching for water, and every "sad" memory is
|
|
Icarus plunging for the sea. Neither the water nor the lack ever kills me; I
|
|
reach into eternity, wishing I never had to reach at all.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
I stand alone. Even when I am with everyone else, I stand alone. It
|
|
hurts to even talk about it, and I can feel my heart twisted in my chest. All
|
|
I feel now is pain! My eyes hurt, my head hurts, my stomach is twisted in my
|
|
belly. My soul is in anguish.
|
|
|
|
I can't go on. I can't write any more. Maybe I can find peace in sleep,
|
|
or maybe tomorrow in church or at work.
|
|
|
|
I know I won't find it until I leave the world.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
The memory is indeed an interesting thing. I was listening to my
|
|
grandfather talk today, as I have been since his visit began. He was talking
|
|
of general things, but the things that stood out most obviously are the
|
|
tragedies. He told me about his life as a child, about how he delivered coal
|
|
and ice, about how he got a dime for helping a lady carry her ten pound bag of
|
|
potatoes up two floors, about how he delivered groceries. The most vivid
|
|
memory, though, was about the World's Fair in New York. He saved change for a
|
|
long time and planned to have a lot of fun, and rode the bus to New York to
|
|
stay with his relatives, his mother's sisters. Every day he was there they
|
|
were so wrapped up in their own families they completely neglected to take
|
|
him, and he could not reproach them out of respect for being his aunts. He
|
|
told me he decided he would "treat my kids halfway decent."
|
|
|
|
(I look down at the sandstone Christ in my shrine, and for the first time
|
|
there seems to be a smile on His thorn-crowned face.)
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Mass seems to be over. Could hear them all at it. Pray for us. And
|
|
pray for us. And pray for us. Good idea the repetition. Same thing
|
|
with ads. Buy from us. And buy from us."
|
|
-- James Joyce, _Ulysses_
|
|
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
A TREATiSE ON CHAOS PENETRATiON
|
|
by I Wish My Name Were Nathan
|
|
|
|
Disclaimer:
|
|
|
|
I in no way support chaos penetration or intend to use it. I made up
|
|
things in this essay to bolster an argument I don't agree with. Kilgore Trout
|
|
forced me to write this article under threat of death and/or suspension of my
|
|
potty privileges.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
The latest movement in literature is again striving to overthrow outdated
|
|
doctrines of thought. Chaos penetration could at once be called a Dadaesque
|
|
anti-movement as well as a rearrangement of archetypal prejudices. On one
|
|
hand, chaos penetration tries to destroy the structure of fiction, buckling
|
|
under a long-lived tradition of stagnation even through the postmodern age.
|
|
And on the other, it tries to replace the old structure with one newer and
|
|
more robust. One might notice that this is simply a resonation of anti-
|
|
classical sentiment through history; one might wonder if the death of the
|
|
modern art movement and the decay of postmodernism render such efforts
|
|
unnecessary. But in light of chaos penetration's bold and decisive rewriting
|
|
of the tenets of fiction, one must wonder: is this the final step?
|
|
|
|
|
|
Art and science in combat with fiction
|
|
|
|
As discussed at length in the book _Chaos Penetration: Reactions From a
|
|
Modern Age_ [1], chaos penetration is an upheaval in fiction, which was
|
|
destined to happen after Einstein's theory of relativity and Heisenberg's
|
|
uncertainty principle overturned classical doctrines in physics.
|
|
Unfortunately, the gaps between the world of science and the world of art --
|
|
and even between the world of art and the world of fiction -- are great, and
|
|
thought travels sluggishly between them. Indeed, resentment between science
|
|
and art, an unfortunate Western battle of prides not existing in even the
|
|
oldest societies [2], has shellacked the world of fiction in a comically
|
|
Medieval backwater.
|
|
|
|
"Fiction has been long due its rightful place in the art world," Jimision
|
|
writes [3]. Poetry, epic retellings of historical events, and even plays had
|
|
long been considered artistically superior to the novel. Novels slowly gained
|
|
acceptance in critical centers, long damned by their popularity with the
|
|
masses. And even after that, the short story faced challenges. "Resentful
|
|
critics and would-be artists would only accept painfully prolonged novels as
|
|
art; any work taking less effort was dismissed outright," Jimision points out.
|
|
Even consider the acceptance of "trash art" and "found art" in today's art
|
|
community -- artists specializing in such fields can instantly find undeserved
|
|
financial success, while short story writers still struggle even for a voice.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Enormity of restraints
|
|
Even beyond the issues of artistic acceptance, authors of fiction are
|
|
restrained by outdated styles of writing. The importance of the concepts
|
|
"plot", "setting", and "character" drilled into young minds in school are
|
|
instant restraints. "Plot" is a complex process of creating time,
|
|
interactions, and conflicts. "Setting" requires the visualization of an
|
|
unseen world, a time and place with memory, traditions, and atmosphere.
|
|
"Character" is a psychological study, literally an out-of-body experience --
|
|
and there is usually more than one in a story. For an author to "master"
|
|
fiction in the classical sense, s/he must "master" each of these impossibly
|
|
difficult tasks and properly interweave them through time and space; also,
|
|
s/he must use beautiful words and beautiful syntax -- or else be left to dusty
|
|
book racks.
|
|
|
|
Why does the process of writing fiction still remind us of Michaelangelo?
|
|
When the modern mind has gleefully accepted the existence of beauty in much
|
|
less strenuous modern forms of painting, why does it still demand intricate
|
|
plots, settings, and characters in every work of fiction? Perhaps this is a
|
|
good thing -- it's easier to weed out "bad" writers: simply look for a
|
|
problem in either the plot, the setting, or any one of the characters.
|
|
|
|
Chaos penetration destroys these pretenses.
|
|
|
|
|
|
History of chaos penetration
|
|
|
|
One may assume "chaos penetration" is new. This is not the case.
|
|
Whispers of its ascent have emanated through history. Only today has the
|
|
philosophical capacity of the mind been freed enough to accept it -- if only
|
|
reluctantly.
|
|
|
|
The earliest basis of chaos penetration came not from Poe, Hawthorne, or
|
|
even Melville. In fact, Jonathan Edwards, author of the notorious Puritan
|
|
sermon "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God", provides the earliest
|
|
intimations. Edwards tried to fight to decline of Puritanism that arose when
|
|
the second generation of American colonists interpreted their hardships and
|
|
failures as a blow to the belief that the Pilgrims were "chosen people" meant
|
|
to create a "city on a hill." The Calvinist-Puritan belief that the universe
|
|
was completely predetermined was losing its significance, to be replaced with
|
|
more religious diversity and enquiry.
|
|
|
|
Edwards tried to keep the faith; his reactions to attacks on
|
|
predetermination come through in essays such as "Freedom of the Will" and "A
|
|
Careful and Strict Enquiry, into the Modern Prevailing Notions That Freedom of
|
|
Will Is Supposed to Be Essential to Moral Agency, Virtue and Vice, Reward and
|
|
Punishment, Praise and Blame", both in 1754, demonstrate the emerging break
|
|
between belief in Providence and newer notions of man's purpose on earth. [4]
|
|
This change discredited John Calvin's assertions that uncertainty did not
|
|
exist.
|
|
|
|
Later, Puritan fervor was replaced by a Deism, paving the way for crucial
|
|
changes in philosophy which would give birth to the tenets of chaos
|
|
penetration. The Enlightenment brought about radical changes in the
|
|
understanding of human rights and the purpose of government. In Thomas
|
|
Paine's "The Age of Reason," he attacks religion and divine revelation and
|
|
advocates reason as the proper guide for living. This shift in philosophy was
|
|
not quickly accepted, but cleared the path for scientific enquiry to shape
|
|
people's understanding of the world. This shift was important to the advent
|
|
of chaos penetration, for religious presumptions long led people to attribute
|
|
mystery and chaos to God's unquestionable will.
|
|
|
|
It took the American Revolution to foster the separation of American
|
|
philosophy from the classical Europeans. It is especially poignant that the
|
|
modern revolution of fiction has had to wait over two hundred years since the
|
|
American Revolution. Like the original intentions of the 1775 revolution,
|
|
|
|
chaos penetration aims to overthrow the repressive control of a foreign power
|
|
-- in this case, the control of archaic conventions on modern fiction.
|
|
|
|
Unfortunately, the revolution in art was stalled in the new democracy.
|
|
The pursuit of progressive art was abandoned in America from the time of the
|
|
Puritans, for the purposes of devoting effort to build the new nation. The
|
|
separation of the American and European spheres of influence came slowly; art
|
|
continued to childishly follow the advances in Europe, which were
|
|
unfortunately mired in the classical past.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Modern art and chaos penetration
|
|
|
|
Even considering the limitations unnaturally placed on fiction and art, I
|
|
would be lying if I claimed that chaos penetration was the only attempt to
|
|
break free. It most certainly is not. Some modern art movements have had
|
|
their effects on fiction. Impressionism and cubism can be seen in James
|
|
Joyce's stream-of-consciousness style, in its creation of a complete story by
|
|
the association of individual, unrelated, and sometimes even contradictory
|
|
thoughts in space and time. Other movements such as surrealism can be seen in
|
|
Freudian psychological dramas, by extracting esoteric secrets from the
|
|
troubled mind. Painting and art are two very different genres, of course, and
|
|
drawing such associations is difficult [5].
|
|
|
|
One must ask, however: where do abstract expressionism and Dada cross
|
|
over into fiction? Are there any examples of this? Certainly -- these 1950's
|
|
revolutions in thought are precisely the bases for chaos penetration.
|
|
|
|
Abstract expressionism, as epitomized by Jackson Pollock's "splatter
|
|
art," translates into fiction as such: the plot, the characters, and the
|
|
setting are not central. Just as Pollock created intriguing images by
|
|
ignoring the need for the line and the surface, so does chaos penetration defy
|
|
the need for classical models of fiction. This is not to say that fiction in
|
|
the chaos penetration style is devoid of such elements; rather, it
|
|
de-emphasizes their centrality.
|
|
|
|
Take, for instance, the character. Standard fiction deplores the use of
|
|
"two-dimensional, cardboard cut-out" characters. Have you ever wondered why?
|
|
Certainly it offends our intelligence -- but this is all from the mindset that
|
|
*the centrally important character makes the story happen.* This is not true!
|
|
Chaos penetration adamantly holds that *life happens to the characters.* What
|
|
the characters then do is react to life. From this viewpoint, a two-
|
|
dimensional character would only emerge out of careful planning -- by setting
|
|
up his life so that he is forced to react in an utterly predictable way. But,
|
|
one may ask, what is to prevent "the things that happen" from being two-
|
|
dimensional as well? This is where Dada comes in.
|
|
|
|
The Dada anti-movement in art (see my article "Dada, Nietzsche, and the
|
|
Ascetic Ideal" in SoB #25 for background) provides the disorder and absurdity
|
|
that drive chaos penetration. The Dadas did not merely speak out against the
|
|
restrictive structures of classical art; they destroyed them in practice.
|
|
Dada performances were always advertised to be high-class, stodgy art lectures
|
|
-- and always turned out to be chaotic, humorous events, insulting the
|
|
audience members and their biases toward seriousness.
|
|
|
|
Dada is energy, applied in no serious direction. And so is chaos. Chaos
|
|
penetration "frolics in uncertainty, revels in plans gone wrong, whinnies and
|
|
gallops over the ordered pragmatic mind" [6]. Like Dada, the use of chaos
|
|
penetration at once alerts the reader that something new is happening, and
|
|
that all bets are off. This humorous yet serious attitude provides an
|
|
infinity of conflicts around which to write fiction. No longer does there
|
|
have to be archetypal "good" and "evil" -- there only exist reactions to
|
|
haphazard happenstances.
|
|
|
|
Finally, chaos penetration may involve pure nonsense. The use of
|
|
familiar cause-effect relationships and scientific facts may aid the reader,
|
|
but the writer is free to use, warp, or dismiss "common sense" as deemed
|
|
necessary for her/his freedom.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The new physics and chaos penetration
|
|
|
|
Above was mentioned a connection between Einstein, Heisenberg, and chaos
|
|
penetration. After considering this new movement's use of plot, setting, and
|
|
character, I can now explain.
|
|
|
|
Heisenberg's uncertainty principle arose when physicists were starting to
|
|
reach into the structure of the atom. Quantum mechanics established the dual
|
|
nature of the electron, both as particle (as is evident in electricity) and as
|
|
a wave (as is evident via the quantization of electron energy levels around
|
|
the nucleus). Accordingly, light, as a particle-wave "photon", was discovered
|
|
to be emitted through atomic decay. Heisenberg pointed out that according to
|
|
even classical physics, attempting to measure both the velocity and the
|
|
position of an electron was impossible: man-made devices using photons or
|
|
electrons to make the measurements would disturb some aspect of the electron
|
|
during the measurement. Only one piece of information could be gathered in
|
|
any one measurement.
|
|
|
|
All the causes and effects in chaos penetration are likewise impossible
|
|
to know absolutely. Unlike classical fiction, chaos penetration does not
|
|
pretend to simulate life in a closed box where every effect can be linked to a
|
|
single cause; like real life, it understands that the web of interactions
|
|
between psychology, knowledge, assumptions, social mores, and happenstance
|
|
render a full knowledge of plot impossible. Life cannot be frozen to have all
|
|
its aspects examined at once.
|
|
|
|
This does not mean that the writer has an easier job, that s/he does not
|
|
need to explain things any longer. It is indeed difficult to simulate real
|
|
life; the mind wants to craft models around imaginary situations, cut out
|
|
unpredictable influences, "Simplify, simplify" [7]. Unfortunately, such
|
|
simplification castrates creativity. Chaos penetration humbly accepts the
|
|
reality of confusion and works with it, not against it.
|
|
|
|
Einstein's theory of relativity also influences chaos penetration. In
|
|
linking energy, gravity, time, and space, Einstein's theory demonstrates the
|
|
fact that the perception of time and space for one participant may not be the
|
|
same as for another; reality is relative to each person and object in
|
|
existence.
|
|
|
|
Chaos penetration embraces relativism, taking Hawthorne's and Melville's
|
|
use of ambiguity to a new level. Each character considered in a story now
|
|
lives in her/his own reality; the era of the simplistic hit-steal-run or kiss-
|
|
screw-cry plot is over. The reader can now expect to find steal-cry-screw or
|
|
run-hit-kiss plots.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chaos penetration and morality
|
|
|
|
From the viewpoint of relativity, morality is utterly meaningless -- each
|
|
person has her or his own ideas about the working of the world and the meaning
|
|
of life. Unlike robots, real people can choose to be independent of
|
|
conformity. Under relativism, real people are not really in society --
|
|
society is an external construct; relativistically, the world literally
|
|
revolves around each person, although in no predictable or necessarily
|
|
comfortable way. Moralistic fiction has no place in chaos penetration.
|
|
|
|
Indeed, chaos penetration denies "good" and "evil" and all its moralistic
|
|
associations outright. After all, what are "good" and "evil"? Archaic
|
|
thought holds that these concepts are natural labels attached to each action a
|
|
person commits in a society based on a shared ethic. "B-b-b-b-b-bullshit!"
|
|
says chaos penetration. How can a society uniformly educate each member in
|
|
order to make such judgments? The ideal of uniform education does not exist
|
|
in the real, chaotic world. Furthermore, what actions are to be judged?
|
|
Aristotle at least had a clue when he declared that some actions can be
|
|
unintentional or accidental, but in this is assumed that all other actions
|
|
have then been well-planned and executed according to reason. The effects of
|
|
desire, circumstance, and psychological condition have nothing to do with
|
|
reason but everything to do with action. Actions are indeed chaotic.
|
|
Classical fiction does not understand this. Most fiction is moralistic, or
|
|
assumes the reader will naturally want the "good guy" to defeat the "bad guy."
|
|
The modern obsession with the psychotic mind, namely the serial killer, is a
|
|
blindingly obvious indication that people are bored with moral characters.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Meaning and coincidence
|
|
|
|
With the new frameworks of uncertainty and relativity, meaning and
|
|
coincidence take on new meaning. What does a chaos penetration story mean?
|
|
What is to be made of the unexplained happenstances in life?
|
|
|
|
Chaos penetration can be seen as "philosophy in story form." [8] Since
|
|
these stories try to model real life -- uncertainty, confusion, and all --
|
|
what is the reader to make of it? The proper question is, what do the
|
|
characters make of it? They are just as confused as the reader, if the story
|
|
is written correctly. Chaos penetration offers a framework with which to
|
|
question the meaning or unmeaning of life, a task when undertaken in ordinary
|
|
fiction often seems trite, emotional, or preachy. With chaos penetration,
|
|
there are many ways to present philosophical arguments. With the humor of
|
|
Dada, one may expect dialogues resembling Monty Python sketches. With the
|
|
often bleak chaos of Abstract Expressionism, one may find existentialism.
|
|
With both, philosophy can take the form of dark humor. One is reminded of
|
|
Kurt Vonnegut in the latter regard.
|
|
|
|
In this new framework, the concept of coincidence takes on new meaning.
|
|
In classical fiction, coincidence is often painfully endured as an excuse for
|
|
a plot twist to further progression of the storyline. In chaos penetration,
|
|
coincidence may not have any meaning at all; it is understood that the
|
|
significance of coincidence varies from person to person, and even between the
|
|
characters and the reader. Coincidence may therefore simply be accident.
|
|
Indeed, purposeful coincidence in a chaos penetration story, or synchronicity,
|
|
is probably very important.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Conclusion
|
|
|
|
Chaos penetration is both a beautiful way to evolve modern fiction and a
|
|
memorable catch phrase. It gives the writer new freedom long accepted in
|
|
"higher" forms of art and promises to instill fiction with more meaning and
|
|
absurdity and less structure. Writers are also guaranteed critical response
|
|
if they're esoteric enough. Chaos penetration does not require a licensing
|
|
agreement. The reader must however surrender her/his notions of reality and
|
|
of the "quick read." Unhappy readers will only surrender a few hours of their
|
|
lives.
|
|
|
|
So, is this the final step for fiction? The best I can argue is that it
|
|
is the *next* step, and a long-needed one.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Footnotes
|
|
|
|
[1] Jimison, Robert L. _Chaos Penetration: Reactions From a Modern Age_.
|
|
Royko Publishing, New Orleans: 1995, p. 20.
|
|
|
|
[2] Jimison, p. 23
|
|
|
|
[3] Jimison, p. 25
|
|
|
|
[4] Ruland, Richard and Bradbury, Malcolm. _From Puritanism to
|
|
Postmodernism: A History of American Literature_, Penguin, New York: 1991, p.
|
|
39.
|
|
|
|
[5] Klein, Steven. _Modern Art and Atrocity_. Jake Jacobs Publishing, Los
|
|
Angeles: 1993.
|
|
|
|
[6] Kilgore Trout, private conversation.
|
|
|
|
[7] Thoreau, Henry Sheldrake. _Walden_.
|
|
|
|
[8] Jimison, p. 42
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Analyzing humor is like dissecting a frog. Few people are interested
|
|
and the frog dies of it."
|
|
-- E.B. White
|
|
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
SLiNG THAT BANDWiDTH, PART I
|
|
by Clockwork
|
|
|
|
Embarking on an absolute information blitz, I trekked across the vast
|
|
expanse of concrete, the dawn of one morning, to visit two of the book stores
|
|
I am obscenely married to. Not knowing what I was searching for -- an all too
|
|
common character trait of mine -- I breezed into the first of the series,
|
|
Barnes & Nobles, located in one of the suburbanated upper class shopping zones
|
|
of Austin. I do not belong.
|
|
|
|
Waltzing through the massively adorned double-doors, while at the same
|
|
time avoiding the Over-55 Patrons perched on the steps at the entrance (who've
|
|
obviously had enough of their children's and/or grandchildren's lollygagging
|
|
about the books), I glided into the El Computero Sek-cheee-un, and as usual,
|
|
was not impressed, overwhelmed, or even perplexed. Although, it is fairly
|
|
amusing to see a human pick up Internet for Dummies, flip through it, mutter
|
|
something about it being too technical and placing the book back down.
|
|
|
|
Out into the wild world I go, making my way through the racks of paper to
|
|
the main pathway of travel. It became obvious I was trapped in a building
|
|
overpopulated by humans. I occurred a minor psychotic episode combining
|
|
claustrophobia with tourette's syndrome and dove out of the crowd, ending up
|
|
nervously staggering into the Sci/Fi section. Instantly, I realized this was
|
|
a sign of, from, about, over, under and through the Apocalypse, and saw what
|
|
has been my ailment in life. I have a metaphysical requirement to read a
|
|
novel of the cyberpunkish persuasion at least once every three or four months
|
|
or so. If I do not, a small rift in the time/space continuum will begin to
|
|
appear in my chest, causing much separation from my conscious life, stares
|
|
from Christian citizens, and chaffing.
|
|
|
|
So, down the row I went, sidestepping a classic alternative looking male
|
|
with boots included, apparently immersed in his own quest to find the ultimate
|
|
fantasy novel, and, being completely logical, started with the Z's. Back and
|
|
forth my body and eyes went, with my head cocked to one side, looking
|
|
curiously like a small puppy staring up at its human equivalent of a parental
|
|
figure with a "What the hell are you doing?" look on its face. One out of
|
|
every 183.17 books or so, I deduced, was labeled as a bonafide member of the
|
|
cyberpunk genre. For a reason that escaped my comprehension, I thought there
|
|
would be more.
|
|
|
|
After browsing the two and a half rows of dead trees, and reading the
|
|
back of approximately five cyberpunkish books, I came to a somewhat depressing
|
|
and frustrating conclusion -- science fiction writers who claim they write
|
|
cyberpunk have no clue what cyberpunk is.
|
|
|
|
Take for instance this book with a cute little techno-cover, Rim, by
|
|
Alexander Besher. It's covered in a fluorescent remnant of orange and is a
|
|
slightly oversized paperback, which coerces your mind into thinking it could
|
|
possibly be neat. And then you read the back cover --
|
|
|
|
"It's 2027. Tokyo has survived the Mega-Quake of the Millennium and
|
|
Saturi Corporation, the owner of a virtual reality entertainment
|
|
empire, is embroiled in cutthroat corporate warfare to preserve its
|
|
market share, and, incidentally, save the lives of thousands of users
|
|
trapped inside virtual worlds...."
|
|
|
|
I vomited...
|
|
|
|
...and then put the book back on the shelf, wondering if the fact that it
|
|
is fluorescent orange makes it more flammable than the average book.
|
|
Obviously there will be sub-trash cyberpunk sci-fi out there, just like there
|
|
is sub-trash horror, essays, poetry, and maps of the world. And then I found
|
|
Tom Dwiggins' book, Interrupt. A somewhat cheezy 1970s font was used for the
|
|
title, but alas, how bad could it be... let me see, la-dee-da...
|
|
|
|
Brief synopsis: Interrupt (the not-so-good-guy hacker of the story,
|
|
portrayed more like a psychopathic manic depressive who likes technology),
|
|
eliminated the phone service of 40,000 phone in Silicon Valley.
|
|
|
|
Ok. Well, that could be interesting.
|
|
|
|
Reading on, it seems as though Interrupt ends up kidnapping the deaf
|
|
child of an AT&T employee (the good guy, ironically -- savior of the masses,
|
|
an AT&T engineer, played by Michael J. Fox).
|
|
|
|
Gee. That's odd. Hack-a-thriller. And all on the back cover.
|
|
|
|
Flipping towards the front of the book, I caught the word "5ESS." Aha!
|
|
Even odder -- an author writing not-really-cyberpunk-at-all cyberpunk fiction
|
|
set in the present day world, in a place considered the technology hotbed of
|
|
the country, stereotyping hackers as goat-worshipping modern day vikings
|
|
raping the weak (deaf boy -- symbolism) across the countryside, and phone
|
|
company employees as Christian soldiers coming to deliver the sinners to
|
|
Jesus....and he might actually possess accurate knowledge about phone systems.
|
|
|
|
Mind-boggling, to say the least.
|
|
|
|
Attempting to give this oh-so-promising piece of work a minuscule chance,
|
|
I began to casually read from the beginning. It seems to start out in the
|
|
middle of a thunderstorm (classic opening), with Interrupt peering into the
|
|
windows of Mr. AT&T employee, ogling at him and his deaf son. I suddenly felt
|
|
like I was going to be entrapped in a pedophilia story. Ends up Interrupt
|
|
just stood and stared longingly inside the house, punched the window (which
|
|
the author so smashingly described the action by stating "Interrupt then
|
|
struck out.") and ran off. Not so later on, Interrupt briskly walks through a
|
|
hotel lobby while not a single soul is around, with his baseball cap pulled
|
|
down over his brow and his collar up around his face, and heads to the
|
|
payphone.
|
|
|
|
< Suspenseful String Concerto Here >
|
|
|
|
He tears an innocent page from the phone book and uses it to hold the
|
|
cradle -- obviously to leave no fingerprints in the midst of his evil crime
|
|
spree. So, he dials the same number about eight times, each time getting a
|
|
recorded message, each time hanging up. Finally, Interrupt proceeds to punch
|
|
in a *NINE* digit number that just happens to spell Interrupt, and after he
|
|
hears his own recording, says the powerful word "Bingo." And BOOM! No more
|
|
phone system.
|
|
|
|
Ahem. First of all, however k-rad and elite Mr. Interrupt may be,
|
|
dialing a nine-digit phone number is not going to assist his crusade and/or
|
|
modify the first seven digits of the number at all. He might as well tap his
|
|
little fingers on I-N-T-E-R-R-U and stop. Don't expend those wacky
|
|
irreplaceable carbohydrates. And to fathom the possibility of whispering the
|
|
word "Bingo" into a voice mail system and the result being the complete
|
|
shut-down, end-of-life, no-more-1-800-CALL-ATT, of 40,000 phones is just
|
|
unimaginable. Crap. Crap. Crap.
|
|
|
|
OK, theoretically, the poor lost soul could have a voice mail system set
|
|
up on his own PC, with voice recognition niftily setup to receive the "Bingo"
|
|
command and run a script/batch file to quickly, inconspicuously dial up el
|
|
AT&T'o, login under the account he hacked a week ago, and run a shell script
|
|
he wrote three days ago, disabling a chunk of the AT&T network.
|
|
|
|
And theoretically, I can jig across the bowels of the Devil whining about
|
|
whores and puppets and things that go bump in the night, wearing only a
|
|
loincloth fashioned from the tainted skin of Cthulhu, HIS whores, puppets, and
|
|
things that go bump in the night.
|
|
|
|
By this point in time I have come to the realization of the world being
|
|
absolutely ignorant of what occurs in the roots and darkened corners -- even
|
|
the will-lit corners -- of the virtual world. Once again, media-hugging
|
|
hipsters take it upon themselves to educate the populace about something they
|
|
have no clue about. Tis true to stay it is the exact kind of typical
|
|
stereotyping done to everything else in the universe -- 94% of the time
|
|
absolutely incorrect.
|
|
|
|
A large problem, however, is the populace acting on the misinformation
|
|
and the stereotyping. A hacker, software pirate, phone phreak gets arrested
|
|
-- burn them all -- they are evil drug-using fiends, constantly balancing the
|
|
fate of humanity on their small toe while cussing at small children and raping
|
|
large senior citizens with freshly grown cucumbers. Oh, yes, feel fear.
|
|
Technology is evil incarnate.
|
|
|
|
Flabbergasted would be a decent word to use in this situation. Down I
|
|
put that book and moved on in the saga, until I came across yet another
|
|
weakingly written piece entitled The Shift, by George Fog. With all hope
|
|
having dissipated twenty minutes before, I grudgingly tossed the book onto
|
|
its belly to see what is scribbled upon its back.
|
|
|
|
Hmmmmm....
|
|
|
|
Alcoholic man with bad life -- wife left him -- discovers the
|
|
possibilities of virtual reality and is "saved" in a sense. Turns his life
|
|
around, stops drinking, becomes a happy man. Here, virtual reality is
|
|
synonymous with the reported feats of religion, specifically Christianity and
|
|
its derivatives. The man is the sinner, confessing and shedding it all, saving
|
|
his soul in virtual (Jesus) reality. However, something which may also hold
|
|
some religious significance -- Alex Munn, the main character, eventually
|
|
creates a program (apparently it is a simplistic language, allowing people to
|
|
rapidly learn to program with ease) set in the 1850s, where the Fishman, a
|
|
serial killer, is on the prowl. Suddenly, I feel as though I'm watching Star
|
|
Trek: The Next Generation, with Data clothed like Sherlock Holmes, skipping
|
|
down dark alleys in England.
|
|
|
|
As some of you may have intelligently, or predictably, guessed, the
|
|
Fishman one day decides to follow Alex back into the real world and terrorizes
|
|
this planet we call Earth. Somewhat close to the plot of Virtuosity, (1995 --
|
|
Denzel Washington, Kelly Lynch, Russell Crowe, distributed by Paramount) where
|
|
Sid 6.7, a conglomerate of serial killers -- designed, created, and fed by the
|
|
police force -- steps out of his 91-inch flatscreen wall display and chases
|
|
down Denzel.
|
|
|
|
Once again, we run into a) a supreme lack of creativity, and b) an
|
|
overwhelming fear of technology -- in this case, virtual reality. --- The
|
|
common author, miner, pharmacist, or street performer is not versed at all
|
|
concerning the properties of and uses for, let alone the definition of,
|
|
virtual reality. I would even dare to say the majority of humans on the
|
|
planet are in the same state of ignorance. Including those directly involved
|
|
in the computer world. Hell, some of *THEM* can be the worst. This, however,
|
|
is not their fault, being uncontrollably bombarded by media every slight step
|
|
they take. Television, radio, newspapers, magazines, film -- all have, and
|
|
further will, shape the definition of cyberculture, virtual reality, and
|
|
everything an editor/producer can think to go along with it.
|
|
|
|
Incidentally, I would like to point out just because some things have 3D
|
|
graphics, doesn't mean it is VR. Too many times I have been scanning the
|
|
channels of the square electric box in my living room, hoping to find
|
|
something stimulating to the mind, and found some idiot with short hair
|
|
showing off "state-of-the-art" virtual reality products. The camera shot cuts
|
|
to him riding a prehistoric bird with a monolithic flat screen in front of
|
|
him. It also shows clips from various pop iconic arcade games and Disney
|
|
World rides. This is not virtual reality. These are video games with 3D
|
|
graphics on a large high-intensity screen, perhaps with SDDS or something
|
|
similar with environmental sound, and possibly even some motion of the
|
|
physical object you stand/sit upon.
|
|
|
|
Virtual reality, as I see it -- and to be honest with you, you probably
|
|
shouldn't agree with any of my opinions, I am only a homo sapien (shaken, not
|
|
stirred) -- is being enveloped in an artificial digitally-created,
|
|
man-controlled world, drawing on and convincing all five senses of the
|
|
realness of the reality it is set in. Sight, sound, taste, touch, smell. All
|
|
to be reckoned with.
|
|
|
|
Alright, you are correct in saying the above examples of media portraying
|
|
virtual reality are the beginning steps toward Clock's VR Fantasy. I will
|
|
freely admit and point out that. But they have the responsibility to tell us
|
|
that, and not to mislead the populace about things they fear the most.
|
|
|
|
Is there an author in cyberpunk world I recommend and maybe even like...?
|
|
|
|
Classics include anything by William Gibson. I truly believe there is
|
|
not a soul currently around that can match his skill and perception of the
|
|
virtual society as he can. Amazing literary works come from that man's soul.
|
|
|
|
As for his counterpart, Bruce Sterling, I have no respect for him
|
|
whatsoever. Not only do I think his writing is somewhat overrated, but I
|
|
believe he is a pompous egotistical prick, who more often than not, seems like
|
|
he is one of those people who just think they know what is going on.
|
|
|
|
Not too long ago, I picked up Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson, and was
|
|
actually thoroughly impressed. Brilliant writing style with massive doses of
|
|
amusement for the reader. His handling of a virtual world was also done with
|
|
elegance. Recently I found another by him, Diamond Age, and hopefully it will
|
|
be as fulfilling.
|
|
|
|
Other than that, someone should suggest something to me.
|
|
|
|
It just seems to be the daisy-like buzzword of the decade, and I give you
|
|
an absolute guarantee this decade will be known as the technological decade,
|
|
when technology was dropped in the hands of the people, and they had no clue
|
|
what to do with it. There needs to be propaganda thrown about from the
|
|
various spy planes drifting the earth stating "THE INTERNET IS MORE THAN THE
|
|
WORLD WIDE WEB," and "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT BANDWIDTH IS?"
|
|
|
|
You can compare the chaotic state of the internet and other
|
|
not-so-noteworthy online services to the growth of a city, in a small way. As
|
|
multitudes of citizens arrive and settle in, the city grows financially, grows
|
|
in size, buildings and business centers sprout out of what used to be living
|
|
fields, and they in turn grow bigger themselves, mutating into concrete malls
|
|
and overweight, overtowering, hypocritical, "Oh, yeah? Well my office
|
|
building is bigger!" structures. Along with this comes an increase in demand
|
|
for products and services, thereby increasing the providers of the products
|
|
and services, or at least an increase in the services and products they
|
|
provide. Which also, in turn, increases the waste, in turn increasing the
|
|
demand for a service...etc. Welcome to capitalism.
|
|
|
|
Only, what happens when the city's growth explodes enormously in one
|
|
exponential spurt? The resources and services available are not nearly
|
|
enough, and if that problem is not resolved in a reasonable amount of
|
|
time.....well, bad stuff will happen. Mass migrations of people towards other
|
|
worlds to live in, causing an economical downfall for the city and its
|
|
original and permanent inhabitants.
|
|
|
|
Somewhat of a gold rush phenomenon occurring. People trek to a place
|
|
where riches and fame and pornography are promised with little cost or work,
|
|
only to be disappointed in the long run. There's only so much bandwidth to go
|
|
around, folks, and when you download those 6 gigabyte AVIs of Jenny McCarthy,
|
|
believe me, it doesn't help.
|
|
|
|
An interesting branch of that, perhaps, is the eventual existence of
|
|
bandwidth piracy. In a not-so-distant time when network commerce becomes a
|
|
standard practice, second only to people using the network as standard living,
|
|
there will come a time when people, businesses, criminals, and several other
|
|
categories I am overlooking will look for cheaper and quicker alternatives
|
|
than the standard provider. And so, in steps in the Pirate Bandwidth Outfit,
|
|
who will hack domains purely for their connection capabilities, and sell off
|
|
speed and space. In a somewhat non-profit way, this already occurs in the
|
|
world of pirated software. Individuals will hack sites and trade them to
|
|
others who need the site to put their pirated software on, in exchange for
|
|
software, other sites, or anything else they desire.
|
|
|
|
Now, I do not want you silly people out there to read this the wrong way
|
|
and take it as another "fear the mean powerful hacker gods" statement. No,
|
|
sir. Personally, I am pro-hacker. Come imprison me.
|
|
|
|
If you haven't gotten the underlying theme, I will just blatantly spell
|
|
it out for you. People/organizations do not truly care about the
|
|
possibilities of this technological revolution we're in the middle of.
|
|
Microsoft doesn't care if you learn how to use the internet efficiently and be
|
|
the best you can be. They just want you to user their products and tools, and
|
|
to keep using them. Same applies to internet service providers, AT&T, and
|
|
even to a strange extent the government. And, all too many authors,
|
|
reporters, and media hounds follow the same pattern -- they do not care, as
|
|
long as you read/watch/listen to their stuff. "Once you enter your credit
|
|
card number and click SEND, please use as much bandwidth as you like, because,
|
|
after all -- we charge hourly."
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
"This 'telephone' has too many shortcomings to be seriously considered as
|
|
a means of communication. The device is inherently of no value to us."
|
|
-- Western Union internal memo, 1876
|
|
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
MiND PROBE #5: Hagbard
|
|
by Noni Moon
|
|
|
|
Following my rather strange interview with ansat and his friends I began
|
|
searching for whom to interview for Issue #28. Kilgore suggested I try
|
|
Hagbard, who like ansat lived in the Austin area. Kilgore said that Hagbard
|
|
has written on and off for SoB and also maintains the web and ftp sites on the
|
|
net.
|
|
|
|
I met Hagbard at Bojangle's on 6th Street late one Thursday night. He
|
|
was accompanied by a wide variety of people who were all joking around with
|
|
each other a great deal. It seemed everyone who worked there, including the
|
|
Karaoke host, knew him. He was wearing a t-shirt that said "Monks' Night
|
|
Out".
|
|
|
|
HA: Hi! You must be Noni.
|
|
|
|
NM: Yep. You must be Hagbard. What's "Monks' Night Out"?
|
|
|
|
HA: Oh...[gestures to people] that's my comedy improv and sketch troupe. We
|
|
just finished a show at the Velveeta Room. Good show.
|
|
|
|
NM: You're in an improv troupe?
|
|
|
|
HA: Yeah, it's a lot of fun. It's opened up a lot of doors for me.
|
|
|
|
NM: What do you do?
|
|
|
|
HA: Well, every Thursday and Friday we perform 90 minute shows with sketches
|
|
we write and we improvise scenes and songs using suggestions from the
|
|
audience. The Chronicle Readers' Poll voted us Best Theatre Company of
|
|
1995 last year.
|
|
|
|
[At this point a tall man with a pony tail walks up to Hagbard.]
|
|
|
|
Man: Is this your girlfriend?
|
|
|
|
HA: No. This is Noni. I'm being interviewed. Go away.
|
|
|
|
Man: Oooooh... excuuuuse me. [Leaves]
|
|
|
|
HA: That was Marc, my business manager.
|
|
|
|
NM: Oh. So this is your job?
|
|
|
|
HA: Um...sorta. Acting is my profession, my chosen career. I make little
|
|
money from it. Meager fame is my reward, as well as a vast array of
|
|
opportunities.
|
|
|
|
NM: How did you become involved with State of unBeing?
|
|
|
|
HA: I got involved through ansat. ansat and I have been good friends for
|
|
over nine years now. I thought it would be as good a place as any for
|
|
me to vent stuff.
|
|
|
|
NM: You have never written any fiction for State of unBeing. How come?
|
|
|
|
HA: I did, but Kilgore thought I was sending him highly metaphorical love
|
|
letters, so they never got published.
|
|
|
|
Good fiction takes me a great deal of time to construct. I do not have a
|
|
great deal of time. Mediocre articles can be spun off the top of my head.
|
|
Soapboxes are easy fuel for the keyboard.
|
|
|
|
NM: I take it then that your soapboxes are the essence of reality, space
|
|
exploration, and media corruption?
|
|
|
|
HA: To name but a very few. Space is my big one. I could go on and on. The
|
|
reality grid one is I believe my first SoB article. I wrote that when I
|
|
was heavy into Discordian research. In fact, it is worth noting that I am
|
|
published in the Steve Jackson Games version of the Principia Discordia.
|
|
I created the Official Discordian Blessing.
|
|
|
|
The reality grid was written at a time when I felt that truth, that
|
|
objective reality, was a product of the observer and therefore the
|
|
Universe was different for different people. I still hold this as true,
|
|
but I think some people took it a little farther than I intended. The
|
|
fact is that there must be a great deal in common for everyone's view of
|
|
the Universe. For instance, everyone must agree on most of the physical
|
|
laws and properties of our Universe because anything different would
|
|
preclude our existence.
|
|
|
|
NM: You say you're an actor but you speak like a scientist.
|
|
|
|
HA: I am a scientist. Everyone should be a scientist, it is the only
|
|
philosophy that continually works. It is the best tool humans have for
|
|
survival and understanding.
|
|
|
|
NM: You think science is better than religion?
|
|
|
|
HA: Goddess, help me.
|
|
|
|
Religion is an ancient structure set up to explain the Universe and is
|
|
now an exoskeleton for morality. The fact is that the current, most
|
|
probable, models of the Universe, its origins, and its laws are far more
|
|
awesome and incredible than anything the human mind has ever conceived of.
|
|
|
|
However, in times of uncertainty and difficulty I realize that humans
|
|
often turn to religion as a comfort, chiefly because science indicates
|
|
that the Universe doesn't give a damn. Also, strictly speaking, science
|
|
offers no absolutes or certainties, which frightens a lot of people. It
|
|
is very easy to believe in a compassionate omnipotent creator who takes
|
|
pity upon us mortals when the shit hits the fan. Sometimes the truth
|
|
hurts, but ignorance is deadly. I think life would be significantly
|
|
improved if people realized there is no one to save their ass and it will
|
|
only get better if you make it better.
|
|
|
|
Religions are models. They are appropriate for some applications, such
|
|
as the issue of capital punishment (though science has something to say
|
|
there as well). They are inappropriate for other issues, such as the
|
|
existence of extra-solar planets.
|
|
|
|
I also don't mind admitting that I've prayed a few times when I perceived
|
|
my life was in danger. Never hurts.
|
|
|
|
NM: Are you an atheist?
|
|
|
|
HA: Yes! And if you believe in a god you shall pay for your insulin!!!!
|
|
|
|
No. I am an agnostic. I do not have enough information to make a
|
|
decision. I will however say that I do believe a god is unnecessary,
|
|
that is, I see nothing in the Universe for which there is a high
|
|
probability that an omnipotent deity is required for functionality. But
|
|
that's just me.
|
|
|
|
I find it interesting that people rarely hold on to the ancient models
|
|
that have been unfortunate enough to have come under scientific scrutiny,
|
|
such as an Earth-centered Universe or lumineferous ether, unless the
|
|
model happens to be at the heart of their particular religious dogma.
|
|
Then faith takes the place of logic, evidence, and trust in physical
|
|
observation, things which have continually served up more useful models
|
|
than any fundamentalist faith ever has. A fundamental problem with
|
|
religion is that it cannot admit fallibility. To do so would endanger
|
|
the faith. That is a severe handicap. There are, of course, a few
|
|
exceptions. Catholicism has made tremendous strides in accepting
|
|
statistically useful models of the Universe. Science on the other hand
|
|
actively searches for errors. It is a self-correcting system. It only
|
|
improves with age. This does not mean that scientists are free from
|
|
Fundamentalism, which is why an agnostic attitude is healthy.
|
|
Nevertheless, by the very virtue of their method, scientists will
|
|
eventually arrive at a better model, regardless of how stubborn in their
|
|
ways they may actually be.
|
|
|
|
NM: Over the years you have written several articles about space exploration.
|
|
You even put out a call to create a private organization devoted to the
|
|
colonization of Mars. How did that work out?
|
|
|
|
HA: I received a good response on the private Mars effort and even started a
|
|
mailing list. A couple of months later I came across a book called _The
|
|
Millennial Project_ by Marshall Savage. It thoroughly details how to
|
|
colonize the galaxy in eight steps. The first step was to create a
|
|
private organization. I disbanded my effort and urged others to join the
|
|
First Millennial Foundation. I am a firm supporter of the FMF and I hope
|
|
to become a core member soon.
|
|
|
|
NM: Do you think it will work?
|
|
|
|
HA: I wouldn't be involved if I didn't think it could work. The resource it
|
|
needs most is people. If enough people chip in their efforts it will work.
|
|
That goes for any human endeavor. It is simply a matter of will.
|
|
|
|
NM: I thought "The Destiny of Humanity" was very interesting. What has been
|
|
the reaction to the piece?
|
|
|
|
HA: Well, I posted it to the Net after I wrote it. I received no intelligent
|
|
commentary whatsoever, nor did I receive any positive commentary. The
|
|
consensus of those who replied was that I am a crackpot who doesn't know
|
|
what he is typing about. Without rational reasoning to back up their
|
|
flames I can only ignore them.
|
|
|
|
NM: What is your political position?
|
|
|
|
HA: I haven't a clue. I change about half as often as ansat. I have opinions
|
|
on several issues and ideals of government, but I have yet to find any words
|
|
that classify me. I do feel that the politicians, the media, the
|
|
corporations, and the parties are all terribly short sighted. I see a
|
|
great many band-aids and no cures.
|
|
|
|
There seem to be a lot of wars going on these days. A War on Crime, a
|
|
War on Drugs, a War on War, a War on Media Violence, a War on Pornography,
|
|
a War on Militias, a War on Terrorism, the list goes on. I believe most
|
|
of it to be political posturing, an attempt to maintain a status quo, and
|
|
an attempt to keep certain people in power.
|
|
|
|
For instance, there was recent legislation signed by President Clinton,
|
|
with much fanfare, that made it easier to prosecute people who burn
|
|
churches. I find this incredibly moronic. Arson is already illegal, why
|
|
is it especially illegal to burn churches? Also, if it were possible to
|
|
make prosecution of church burners easier, how come they didn't make it
|
|
easier to prosecute ALL arsonists? Why churches? Is that a worse crime
|
|
than burning a school, a library, a homeless shelter, or the Federal
|
|
Reserve? It is now. Political campaign bullshit.
|
|
|
|
Who benefits most from the War on Crime? The tough-on-crime politicians,
|
|
the police, and the prisons. There are reasons people commit crimes.
|
|
Most of the crimes are drug related. Either they are robbing to support
|
|
a habit or they are covering turf or they are engaged in activity to
|
|
support the trade of drugs. This brings me to the War on Drugs. Who
|
|
benefits most from the War on Drugs? The drug dealers! Legalize all of
|
|
it! Destroy the drug trade in one stroke. Regulate it for quality, tax
|
|
it heavily, and put the money into drug rehab and education.
|
|
|
|
NM: What do you think is the single greatest problem we face today?
|
|
|
|
HA: Infomercials. That and an overabundance of movies being turned into books.
|
|
|
|
NM: Really?
|
|
|
|
HA: No, not really. I think lack of purpose and vision is the greatest
|
|
problem. Humanity has reached a turning point, mere existence is no longer
|
|
a viable occupation. Essentially we are a bored species. We are
|
|
stagnating, we have no direction. I propose that we find a unifying
|
|
purpose in our existence, a goal that we may direct our efforts towards.
|
|
In the past that has been discovering new trade routes, finding resources,
|
|
conquering nature, or finding interesting ways to kill each other. It's
|
|
time to grow up, stop playing games, and get down to business.
|
|
|
|
NM: And you think that business is spreading the progeny of Earth to other
|
|
planets?
|
|
|
|
HA: Planets, asteroids, orbital facilities, whatever. Yep.
|
|
|
|
NM: Why do you think your idea might be unpopular?
|
|
|
|
HA: It isn't unpopular with the populace. Surveys show an overwhelming
|
|
support for space exploration and development. I suspect that the people
|
|
who have the power to make the decisions are against it because it would
|
|
drastically alter the status quo, and they would no longer be in power.
|
|
Or perhaps I'm just a moron.
|
|
|
|
NM: What do you think of State of unBeing?
|
|
|
|
HA: "Informative articles, great poetry, AND literary trash!" [Laughs] I
|
|
think it is far better than anyone ever had any right to expect it to be.
|
|
I think it is tremendously underrated. I think it contains a great deal
|
|
of wisdom from sources that mainstream society would never look to for
|
|
wisdom. Buried within a lot of immature, hopeless, helpless teen angst
|
|
are some pearls of perception. I often get the feeling that a few of the
|
|
authors in SoB, myself included, are among the few people on this planet
|
|
who have any idea what is going on. That is a feeling common to young
|
|
idealists, and therefore probably wrong. "Sombunall" of it.
|
|
|
|
NM: Sombunall?
|
|
|
|
HA: Some-but-not-all. It's a word invented by one of the great agnostics:
|
|
Robert Anton Wilson.
|
|
|
|
NM: If you did write fiction, what would it be like?
|
|
|
|
HA: It would probably be science fiction, historical fiction, or
|
|
action/thriller. Whatever it was it would still contain most of the
|
|
messages present in my articles. I don't write to create art or empty
|
|
my soul or banish my demons. I write to saddle others with what I feel
|
|
are good ideas. Of course, I hope no one blindly believes anything I say
|
|
or write. That would be stupid.
|
|
|
|
NM: Are there any writers or people that have influenced you?
|
|
|
|
HA: Yeah. Carl Sagan and Robert Anton Wilson. I fancy those two don't like
|
|
each other very much. I also like Larry Niven, Albert Einstein, Robert
|
|
Heinlein, Kip Thorne, Stephen Hawking, Eric Drexler, Marshall Savage, and
|
|
Malaclypse the Younger.
|
|
|
|
NM: Where did you get your handle?
|
|
|
|
HA: Hagbard Celine is the central character in _The Illuminatus! Trilogy_ by
|
|
Robert Anton Wilson and Robert Shea. I've had it ever since I first got
|
|
on the Net, which was six years ago. It also happens to be the handle of
|
|
a German hacker who perished in a mysterious fire.
|
|
|
|
NM: How did you come up with the seizure story of SoB #8?
|
|
|
|
HA: I didn't want to see a month skipped. I felt that was a certain sign of
|
|
imminent doom for the zine. It offended my sense of continuity. It was
|
|
very simple to construct a lie and sell it to our readers. It also
|
|
created a lot of Editorial fodder for Kilgore in later issues. It was
|
|
only when I received an actual visit from the Secret Service that I
|
|
became concerned about our little ruse.
|
|
|
|
NM: You were visited by the Secret Service?!
|
|
|
|
HA: Yeah, it was rather unsettling. They just came up to the door one day
|
|
and wanted to speak with me. They asked me about the issue in question
|
|
and whether some of the articles I had made up actually existed. They
|
|
were rather irritated about the whole thing, but I told them it was an
|
|
innocent yarn. Then they asked me about the "recovered data" that was
|
|
published in SoB #9. It looks like gibberish, but there were actually
|
|
some nuggets of truth in it. If anyone was bored enough they could dig
|
|
up an access number for AT&T's computers, as well as the location of an
|
|
underground missile defense site in Austin. I lied and told them I had
|
|
copied it off some board in Austin, which was soon thereafter busted for
|
|
software piracy. Sorry guys.
|
|
|
|
NM: That's scary.
|
|
|
|
HA: It wasn't too bad. I just hope they don't mind my retelling it in this
|
|
interview.
|
|
|
|
NM: What's your biographical background?
|
|
|
|
HA: I'm 21 years old. I was born in Austin. I have lived in Texas most of
|
|
my life. I am an avid amateur astronomer, my profession is entertainment,
|
|
and I really like computers. I have a girlfriend whom I love very much,
|
|
she is an actress. My greatest pleasure is backpacking.
|
|
|
|
NM: Backpacking? As in camping?
|
|
|
|
HA: As in strapping 50 lbs. onto my back and heading out into the desert for
|
|
several days. If you want to taste true personal freedom and elevate the
|
|
simplest things in life to the grandest stature, go backpacking. Just
|
|
make sure you do not die, which is often a possibility. Nature rarely
|
|
gives a second chance, and backpacking is one of the few things in this
|
|
world that can graphically highlight the several methods by which one may
|
|
be killed.
|
|
|
|
NM: What are some books you have recently read?
|
|
|
|
HA: _Knee Deep In Paradise_ by Brett Butler, _Connections_ by James Burke,
|
|
_The Demon-Haunted World_ by Carl Sagan, _Cosmos_ by Carl Sagan,
|
|
_The New Inquisition_ by Robert Anton Wilson, and _Black Holes & Time
|
|
Warps_ by Kip Thorne.
|
|
|
|
NM: Isn't Brett Butler that comedienne that plays on "Grace Under Fire"?
|
|
|
|
HA: Yes. The book is her autobiography. _Connections_ is the
|
|
book based on James Burke's popular television series of
|
|
the same name. It is one of my favorite programs.
|
|
|
|
NM: What are some of your other favorite shows?
|
|
|
|
HA: I barely watch television at all. However, I've been known to enjoy Star
|
|
Trek: The Next Generation, the old Star Trek, MASH, The Day the Universe
|
|
Changed (another Burke series), Nova, and Looney Tunes cartoons.
|
|
|
|
NM: What are your future plans?
|
|
|
|
HA: I plan on being a successful actor. I also plan on changing the world.
|
|
Personally.
|
|
|
|
NM: You want to change the world? That's a big goal.
|
|
|
|
HA: Aim high.
|
|
|
|
NM: How are you going to do that?
|
|
|
|
HA: Well, I'm not sure. I think I'll write a book first. The book would
|
|
essentially be a well thought out and researched version of my "Destiny of
|
|
Humanity" bit in SoB #11.
|
|
|
|
NM: Well, good luck. Or break a leg, or whatever. I hope you change the
|
|
world for the better.
|
|
|
|
HA: Don't worry, I did.
|
|
|
|
At this point Hagbard rejoined his friends and then proceeded to give a
|
|
fairly good cover of "It's Still Rock & Roll to Me" by Billy Joel.
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
[=- FiCTiON -=]
|
|
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
ROY AND KiM RUN A HiGH-SCHOOL PHONE-SEX SERViCE
|
|
by I Wish My Name Were Nathan
|
|
|
|
During lunch, Roy and Kimberly passed out homemade business cards to the
|
|
other kids in the cafeteria. They read, "HOT HOT PHONE SEX! FREE FREE FREE!
|
|
555-LUST! 5-8pm." Some of the kids expressed excitement, some a veiled
|
|
interest. Roy and Kim could only wait to see.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
"Hey, Kim! The phone's ringing!" Roy cried out at 5:01pm.
|
|
|
|
Kim rushed to the phone and picked it up. "Hot hot phone sex at your
|
|
service! Press 1 for a hot chick, press 2 for a grungy guy."
|
|
|
|
The caller pressed a button.
|
|
|
|
"That's a one!" Kim exclaimed, and started talking. "Hey, honey, what's
|
|
up?" she cooed.
|
|
|
|
"I... uh... I...."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, baby! You're turnin' me on!"
|
|
|
|
"What? Oh, really? Well, I just... I wanted to...."
|
|
|
|
"More! More! More!" Kim cried.
|
|
|
|
"What's going on? I... I thought this was the church."
|
|
|
|
"Oh!" Kim said, deflated. "You wanted the church?"
|
|
|
|
"Uh, yeah."
|
|
|
|
"Well, uh, you're too young for church," she said, flustered, hanging up
|
|
the phone.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
The phone rang again a few minutes later.
|
|
|
|
"Better not be church boy again," Kim muttered. She picked up the phone.
|
|
"Hot hot phone sex at your service! Press 1 for a slutty chick, press 2 for a
|
|
stoned-out guy."
|
|
|
|
"One!" the caller said.
|
|
|
|
Kim rolled her eyes. She pressed the `1' button herself. "Why, hello
|
|
there, dark stranger!"
|
|
|
|
"I'm white," the caller said.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, of course," Kim corrected. "You lookin' for some sexual
|
|
excitement?" she asked floozily.
|
|
|
|
"Yeah!"
|
|
|
|
"What did you have in mind, now?"
|
|
|
|
"Wait, do I have to pay?" the caller asked suddenly.
|
|
|
|
"Uh," Kim hesitated, rereading one of the cards she and Roy had handed
|
|
out, "what were you thinking of?"
|
|
|
|
"I wanna sit with you on the couch!"
|
|
|
|
"That's free," Kim said, suddenly bored.
|
|
|
|
"And french ya!"
|
|
|
|
"On the phone?"
|
|
|
|
"Oooh yeah, slutty chick!"
|
|
|
|
"That'll cost you."
|
|
|
|
"Awww, shit!" she heard before the caller hung up.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
An excruciating ten minutes later, the phone rang again. "You pick it
|
|
up," Kim said.
|
|
|
|
Roy answered the phone, and with his best conjured-up deep voice, only
|
|
cracking a few times, said, "Hot hot phone sex line... press 1 for a sexy
|
|
lady, press 2 for a hefty hunk." Kim waved her hands at Roy's audacious self-
|
|
appraisal.
|
|
|
|
The caller pressed a button.
|
|
|
|
"I think that was a two," Roy whispered. "Hot, strapping young man at
|
|
your service."
|
|
|
|
"I pressed one, asshole!" the caller yelled.
|
|
|
|
"Yeah yeah, like you didn't want it," he muttered, handing the phone over
|
|
to Kim.
|
|
|
|
"Hey hey there," Kim said. "Sorry about the confusion. This is... such
|
|
a *confusing* world, isn't it?"
|
|
|
|
"Yeah... it is. Things are really confusing," the caller said. And
|
|
after a pause, "I don't know what college I want to go to yet."
|
|
|
|
"Uh... ooh, I looove older guys," Kim cooed.
|
|
|
|
"You see, I only have a few months left to decide, and I haven't even
|
|
received any pamphlets yet!"
|
|
|
|
"Ummmm... sorry."
|
|
|
|
"Gonna have to be a fuckin' construction worker like my dad," the caller
|
|
lamented.
|
|
|
|
"Construction worker!" Kim cried. "Rippling muscles everywhere turn me
|
|
on!"
|
|
|
|
"Aaah, lay off," the caller said, and hung up.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
The phone rang again. Roy picked up. "Hot, hot phonesex at your
|
|
service.... Press 1 for a luscious waif, press 2 for a high-school homeboy."
|
|
|
|
"Isn't this the church?" the caller asked.
|
|
|
|
"Or press 3 for the Reverend," Roy added.
|
|
|
|
The caller pressed a button. Roy wasn't sure which one it was, so he
|
|
pressed each of the three buttons himself to tell which one it was. The added
|
|
fact that he'd heard a girl's voice made it a little easier.
|
|
|
|
"High-school homeboy at your service," Roy said with a distinctly Bronx
|
|
accent.
|
|
|
|
"Is this long distance?"
|
|
|
|
"Uh, no, I was just acting," he admitted.
|
|
|
|
"Okay, 'cuz mother would tear a ligament. Anyway, these hours are really
|
|
weird. Why five to eight at night?"
|
|
|
|
"Uhhh... decades of scientific research have concluded that these hours
|
|
are the best for phone sex."
|
|
|
|
"Really? I'd have to disagree with that."
|
|
|
|
"Oh," Roy said, not wanting to admit that these hours were really the
|
|
only time they could use the phone without the church finding out.
|
|
|
|
"So, do you have a boner or what?" the caller asked.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, why of course I do, my fair lady. I'm always ready for action," he
|
|
said in his not-quite-soothing fake low voice.
|
|
|
|
The caller started to laugh hysterically. "He has a boner *on the
|
|
phone*! What a loser!"
|
|
|
|
"Now wait a second!" Roy said.
|
|
|
|
"Roy gots a perma-bone! Roy gots a perma-bone!" he heard several girls
|
|
chant, before hearing a strange muffled sound and a click.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
Around six, Kim picked up the next phone call. "Hot hot phonesex at your
|
|
service! Press 1 for a steamy seductress, press 2 for a pitiful mess of a
|
|
boy."
|
|
|
|
"One!" the caller exclaimed.
|
|
|
|
Kim deliberately held down the `1' button for a few seconds and then
|
|
started to speak in an affected breathy voice lower than Roy's. "Why, hello
|
|
th--"
|
|
|
|
"Could you hurry it up? I have to eat dinner in a few minutes."
|
|
|
|
"Oooh, dinner! Dinner turns me on!" Kim cried.
|
|
|
|
"Even meatloaf?"
|
|
|
|
"Meatloaf! Oooh, meatloaf! You don't know where it's coming from!
|
|
Amalgam of animal parts!"
|
|
|
|
"Yeah, I guess. So, what are you wearing?" the caller asked.
|
|
|
|
"I've got on a tight halter top, a short *short* miniskirt, high heels...
|
|
and a meatloaf."
|
|
|
|
"What's with the meatloaf?"
|
|
|
|
"Sorry, let me know if it doesn't turn you on."
|
|
|
|
"Not really; I have to eat it."
|
|
|
|
"*Eating* a meatloaf! Oooh, you're making me cum barbecue sauce!"
|
|
|
|
"I'm not really hungry *or* horny anymore," the caller said, hanging up.
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
Fifteen minutes later, Roy picked up the next call. "Hot hot phonesex at
|
|
your service... press 1 for a sleepy meatloaf girl, press 2 for a washboard-
|
|
stomached man, or press 3 for the Reverend."
|
|
|
|
The caller pressed `2'.
|
|
|
|
"Hello there, pretty lady, what can I do you for?"
|
|
|
|
"I'm a guy," the caller said.
|
|
|
|
"You pressed two."
|
|
|
|
"I know."
|
|
|
|
"Uh...," Roy said nervously, "we are unprepared to deal with this
|
|
contingency. Here's the sleepy meatloaf girl."
|
|
|
|
Kim took the phone. "Hello there," she said, suppressing a yawn.
|
|
|
|
"I wanted a guy," the caller insisted.
|
|
|
|
"Wait, were you calling for confession?"
|
|
|
|
"No! I wanted phone sex with a guy."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, okay, here he is," she said, handing the phone to Roy, who made a
|
|
disgusted expression.
|
|
|
|
"Yeah?" Roy asked, disinterested.
|
|
|
|
"What do you look like?" the caller asked sweetly.
|
|
|
|
"I...," Roy hesitated, wondering if he should lie. He did. "I'm five-
|
|
foot-two, two hundred pounds, white hair, grey eyes, pimples."
|
|
|
|
"Oooh, yeah?" the caller asked, excited. "That's such a shapely figure!"
|
|
|
|
"Oh yeah?"
|
|
|
|
"Yeah! Thank God you're not six feet tall, one-fifty, with brown hair
|
|
and green eyes. That'd make me puke."
|
|
|
|
"Wait a second!" Roy cried, recognizing his real stats. "What's wrong
|
|
with that?!"
|
|
|
|
"Let me tell you something -- you're lucky there are girls around, 'cause
|
|
gay guys have much more discriminating tastes," the caller said, hanging up.
|
|
|
|
Roy was befuddled and flustered. He walked over a wall of the church
|
|
office they were in, toward the full-length mirror upon which was printed a
|
|
line and the notice "You must be this tall to go to hell," and critiqued his
|
|
figure apeishly.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
A while later, the phone rang again and Kim answered. "Hot hot phonesex
|
|
at your service. Press 1 for a really nice girl, or press 2 for a male
|
|
impersonator."
|
|
|
|
The caller pressed `1'.
|
|
|
|
"Hello, are you a boy?" she asked.
|
|
|
|
"Uh-huh," the caller replied.
|
|
|
|
"That's nice. How old are you?"
|
|
|
|
"Sixteen."
|
|
|
|
"Oooh, do you have a driver's license yet?"
|
|
|
|
"No, but I'm taking classes!" the caller added anxiously.
|
|
|
|
"Oh wow, an educated man!" Kim said in awe. "I don't often see those
|
|
around."
|
|
|
|
"I've already driven by myself before."
|
|
|
|
"Oooh, and you take risks too! Would you like to take a risk with me?"
|
|
|
|
"Uh-huh."
|
|
|
|
"What are you wearing, sweet sixteen?"
|
|
|
|
"A shirt, jeans, shoes."
|
|
|
|
"Oooh, a really basic guy. I like that."
|
|
|
|
"Thanks! What are you wearing?"
|
|
|
|
"Not very much, I'm afraid," she cooed.
|
|
|
|
"Oh!!" the caller exclaimed. There was a long silence.
|
|
|
|
"What's wrong, honey?"
|
|
|
|
"Uh, I.... I gotta go."
|
|
|
|
"Why? Am I going too fast for you?" she asked.
|
|
|
|
"No, uh... I... uh, I... ejaculated."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, okay," Kim said, holding her head in her hand. "Go clean up then."
|
|
|
|
"Yeah, I will. Bye."
|
|
|
|
"Bye," she said sighing, and hung up.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
"This sucks."
|
|
|
|
"This really sucks."
|
|
|
|
"It's over."
|
|
|
|
"No more calls."
|
|
|
|
"Right."
|
|
|
|
Roy and Kim replaced the phone at six forty-five and tore up the rest of
|
|
their business cards.
|
|
|
|
As they left the church, Kim nabbed a passing wino.
|
|
|
|
"Hey, mister," she said.
|
|
|
|
"Yesh?" he asked, teetering on his feet.
|
|
|
|
"Go into the church there, and answer the phone if it rings."
|
|
|
|
"Okey-dokey," he said, wandering over.
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
"There's got to be a riddle for forgiveness,
|
|
There's got to be a trigger for happiness."
|
|
-- Machines of Loving Grave, "Trigger for Happiness"
|
|
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
A WORKiNG MAN CAN BE A HAPPY MAN, BUT AN AIMLESS MAN IS FREE
|
|
by Kilgore Trout
|
|
|
|
"Good God!" the guy sitting next to me yelled. "I can't find my
|
|
stickies!"
|
|
|
|
I turned away from my computer and looked at him quizzically. "Your
|
|
what?"
|
|
|
|
"My stickies! I need my stickies!" He opened up his desk drawer and
|
|
started digging through it.
|
|
|
|
I shrugged and got back to work, which consisted of entering lots of
|
|
useless data because a useless bureaucracy told you that it was useful.
|
|
|
|
"I found my stickies!" he said, waving a pad of Post-It notes at me.
|
|
|
|
"Great," I replied. "Now you can shut the fuck up."
|
|
|
|
"You don't have to be so rude," he said. "You should try being nice once
|
|
in a while. Then you'd have friends, and you'd get laid, too."
|
|
|
|
I swiveled around in my chair to face the man. "Would you mind some
|
|
elaboration?"
|
|
|
|
"Not at all," he said smugly. "I've kinda been wanting to say this for a
|
|
while. You are just too cold. No one likes you because you don't like anyone
|
|
at all. People have tried to be friendly, but you either shrug them off or
|
|
insult them. Whatever your problems are, you shouldn't take them out on us."
|
|
|
|
"What's your name again?" I asked.
|
|
|
|
"Deavers. Larry Deavers." He gave me a toothy grin. "Did any of that
|
|
make any sense, or do you still think I'm a total prick?"
|
|
|
|
I reached into my backpack and pulled out a Glock that I had painted a
|
|
bright orange. Two hollow-point rounds put sizable holes in his chest.
|
|
|
|
"I wouldn't go so far as to say a *total* prick, Larry. After all, you
|
|
did make some excellent cider for last year's Christmas party."
|
|
|
|
I twirled the gun around my index finger, looking cool. It's what life
|
|
is all about.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
The police showed up a couple of minutes later. I guess Suzy the
|
|
Secretary heard the gunfire and called them. I didn't recognize these two
|
|
officers, but I made it a point to act extra friendly and gave each one of
|
|
them a cigar. My explanation for having to kill Larry was his inane story
|
|
about his "stickies" and how he tried to attack me with a letter opener. The
|
|
cops asked me where the letter opener was right now, but seeing as how I had
|
|
made it up, I couldn't really tell them. They didn't seem to mind so much
|
|
because the cigars were Cuban.
|
|
|
|
After they thanked me for my help ("Don't worry, kiddo. Sometimes you
|
|
just gotta protect yourself.") and left, I went over to the boss's office and
|
|
let myself in. The boss was an old man, had a huge beer belly, and smoked
|
|
coffee and drank cigarettes like there was no tomorrow. And believe me, when
|
|
somebody lights that coffee cup on fire by accident, their days are numbered.
|
|
|
|
"Rasputin, come in," he greeted, waving me over to a chair. "Heard you
|
|
had a little problem with one of the temps."
|
|
|
|
"Not really, Mr. Switzer," I replied, taking a seat.
|
|
|
|
"Please. We don't have to be so formal today, seeing as how you've had a
|
|
particularly eventful day. Call me Lemonjello."
|
|
|
|
I smiled. "Alright, LJ. I was wondering if I could take the rest of the
|
|
day off. I have, after all, killed someone, and that tends to put a damper on
|
|
people's spirits. My work probably wouldn't be any good today anyway, so if
|
|
you'd let me off, I'd appreciate it."
|
|
|
|
Lemonjello pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it towards me.
|
|
I shook my head, declining his offer. He shrugged and blew his nose.
|
|
|
|
"I think we can handle that request. Hell, take the rest of the week off.
|
|
I understand this kind of thing, ya know. So, tell me what really happened.
|
|
Did he try to put the moves on your girl? Did he steal something?"
|
|
|
|
"Nope. He just was overly irritating."
|
|
|
|
Lemonjello's eyes went dead for a second and then came back into focus.
|
|
"Son, if there were more people in the world like you, it'd be a better place.
|
|
I mean--"
|
|
|
|
The door flew open and my mother was standing there, out of breath.
|
|
|
|
"Rasputin Jasperetti, how the fuck are ya?" she screamed, stumbling over
|
|
to hug me. "Jesus H. Christ, you bastard! Why didn't you give me a call on
|
|
the fucking phone?"
|
|
|
|
My mother has a sailor's mouth, which isn't surprising since she was head
|
|
of the local PTA for about nine years. One time, when I was about ten, one of
|
|
the mothers wanted to have a party for one of the classes. She was all for
|
|
the idea, except for the Incredible Hulk theme. Her ranting went on for about
|
|
ten minutes in front of a group of parents, touching points between the size
|
|
of the Incredible Hulk's nipples to how Bill Bixby could ruin such a great
|
|
career by turning green. It is reported that her last words were, and I
|
|
quote my father's account of this episode, "Turning into a green monster is
|
|
not natural, and we need to teach our kids natural things. If we let our kids
|
|
use Incredible Hulk paper plates, cups, party favors and hats, then that's
|
|
like telling them it's okay to be *gay*. Once again, it's always the homos'
|
|
fault...." My mother has her own ideas about a lot of things, and they are
|
|
usually the extremely wrong ones.
|
|
|
|
"Mom, get off me," I ordered, pushing her away. "Why aren't you at the
|
|
nursing home?"
|
|
|
|
She gave me a nasty look and shook her finger at me. "Those shitheads
|
|
aren't gonna get me back in there. I'm coming to stay with you."
|
|
|
|
Oh great. This is really gonna up my chance of getting laid. And for
|
|
those of you who are trying to misconstrue my words, no, I'm not that sick.
|
|
Yet.
|
|
|
|
"No, Mom, you are not staying with me. That's totally out of the
|
|
question."
|
|
|
|
"And why not, young man?" she pouted, putting her hands on her hips.
|
|
|
|
"Because you'd drive me crazy, that's why." I turned to Lemonjello.
|
|
"Don't you think she's had one too many lobotomies? They were all the rage in
|
|
the old neighborhood."
|
|
|
|
My mother went over to the window, opened it, and spit out some phlegm.
|
|
She muttered something about wishing she had a better aim. I used this as my
|
|
chance to get away.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
Killing what's-his-name didn't really affect me as much as I thought it
|
|
would. One minute, this guy is alive, and then he's not. And it's all
|
|
because of something I did. I took a life, and someone is dead for no good
|
|
reason.
|
|
|
|
Whooptidoo. That's my take on it. Hmmph. Maybe I *do* need to get
|
|
laid.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
I thought about heading down to 11th street to find a date, but decided
|
|
against it. It would be morally reprehensible to treat a woman that way,
|
|
using her as an object for the purpose of some john's lustful desires.
|
|
|
|
Instead I bought the latest copy of Playboy. A hell of a lot cheaper,
|
|
and it's got replay value.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
When you come out of a public restroom stall with a Playboy in hand, you
|
|
get some really strange looks. Like I would really do *that* in there! I was
|
|
reading the articles, honest. Still, I felt uncomfortable, so I quickly
|
|
washed my hands and left the restroom.
|
|
|
|
The mall is pretty nice in the morning: not too many men, very few
|
|
teenagers, a lot of old people congregating in and around whatever cafeteria
|
|
is in the mall, and lots of bored housewives. Guess who I like best?
|
|
|
|
I spot a young woman standing outside an electronics store, eyeing a
|
|
big-screen TV. Sure enough, she's got a ring on, so hubby's birthday must be
|
|
coming up. She's fairly attractive, with a touch of "I-can-let-myself-go-
|
|
just-a-tad-now-that-I'm-married" in her hips.
|
|
|
|
The television was showing an old rerun of Quincy, M.D. I used to watch
|
|
that show when I was younger during summer vacation. It almost made me want
|
|
to be a coroner, even if that meant having to spend two episodes with Buddy
|
|
Hackett. I could never be a surgeon, but give me a dead body and I'd be
|
|
entertained for hours.
|
|
|
|
"Sad thing about ole Jack Klugman," I say, edging my way closer.
|
|
|
|
"Huh?" she asks, turning. "What about him?"
|
|
|
|
"Oh, that heroin and crack episode he had a few weeks back. Ya know,
|
|
where he was also carrying an unloaded gun?"
|
|
|
|
"That was Robert Morton Downey, Jr."
|
|
|
|
"Are you sure? I could have sworn it was Jack."
|
|
|
|
"I'm positive, unless he could have turned 30 years younger."
|
|
|
|
"Well, they do say heroin makes you feel pretty damn good, so that's a
|
|
distinct possibility."
|
|
|
|
The woman started stepping backwards and smiling. "I've, uh, gotta go
|
|
get my husband from the nutrition center. He's buying stuff to make himself
|
|
bigger than he already is."
|
|
|
|
I guess that was her way of trying to scare me. Oh well. I'm not big,
|
|
but I'm armed. Like I mentioned earlier, it's what life is all about. Or was
|
|
that being cool? Well, nowadays they're both interchangeable.
|
|
|
|
Time to get some grub.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
As I was eating my cold chicken salad sandwich in the mall's food court,
|
|
a small girl walked up to me. She had on a cute little pink dress and had
|
|
some sort of retainer in her mouth.
|
|
|
|
"Whath's your name?" she asked nervously.
|
|
|
|
"Rasputin," I answered.
|
|
|
|
"Rathputin," she repeated. "Thath's a funny name."
|
|
|
|
I stood up. "That's not a funny name, Ms. Metalmouth. Why don't you ask
|
|
your mommy why God didn't make you with perfect teeth? Maybe he doesn't love
|
|
you! Maybe your parents sold your soul to the Devil!"
|
|
|
|
She ran off crying. I think kids need to grow up. Besides, everyone
|
|
knows that the Devil is just like Santa Claus. It's your father.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
I had to find someplace else to hang out after security escorted me out of
|
|
the mall and told me to never come back again. I decided to give Suzy the
|
|
Secretary a call and see if she wanted to skip her afternoon shift and go
|
|
partying. We had gone out a few times before, and she wasn't interested in
|
|
getting tied up in a relationship. She was, however, into getting tied up in
|
|
other things, which I didn't mind at all.
|
|
|
|
"Switzer and Sons, this is Suzy," a sexy female voice said.
|
|
|
|
"Hey, Suzy. It's me, Rasputin."
|
|
|
|
"Rasputin? There's a rumor going around the office that you shot Larry.
|
|
Is that true?"
|
|
|
|
I laughed. "Sure is. Does that bother you?"
|
|
|
|
"As long as the part about you having sex with the body isn't true, it's
|
|
okay with me."
|
|
|
|
I didn't say anything.
|
|
|
|
"Well? Hello, Raz? Please tell me you didn't..."
|
|
|
|
"I didn't. But you imagined me doing it with Larry's corpse just then,
|
|
didn't you?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes," she admitted.
|
|
|
|
"And how did it make you feel?"
|
|
|
|
"Dirty as shit. You gross me out, Rasputin."
|
|
|
|
"I know," I apologized. "So, you wanna skip work this afternoon and go
|
|
get smashed?"
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
If I was Suzy's liver, I would pray and ask God why I had been chosen for
|
|
this extreme punishment. I've never seen such an attractive and intelligent
|
|
girl guzzle beer like she does. She went through her two six packs before I
|
|
even started my second.
|
|
|
|
We were out in some field we spotted while we were driving, sitting under
|
|
a tree and drinking. It was pretty hot outside, but Suzy remedied that by
|
|
taking off her shirt, revealing a strange contraption called the "underwire
|
|
bra."
|
|
|
|
Suzy laughed hysterically.
|
|
|
|
"What?" I asked, in-between drinks.
|
|
|
|
Suzy laughed hysterically some more.
|
|
|
|
"C'mon, what is it?"
|
|
|
|
She pointed behind me and fell over, cracking up. I looked behind me.
|
|
Nothing. I scooted over towards her and lied down beside her.
|
|
|
|
"Madeja look," she cackled. "Madeja look, madeja look, madeja look,
|
|
madjea look."
|
|
|
|
At least she didn't think my name was funny.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
When I woke up, it was dark. I tried to stand up, but my pants were
|
|
around my ankles. Suzy was gone, and so was my gun. Definitely not a good
|
|
sign in my book.
|
|
|
|
I just hope we used a condom.
|
|
|
|
I pulled up my pants and headed back towards the car. It's engine was
|
|
running, and Suzy was lying naked on top of the hood. As I got closer, I
|
|
noticed that there was a lot of blood around her head, and in her left hand
|
|
she held my gun. I shook my head and started walking back towards the city.
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
"Hey buddy, you need a ride?" the redneck in the truck asked.
|
|
|
|
I looked up and down the road. It was a long way back to town.
|
|
|
|
"Sure do," I confirmed. "Say, you don't care if I've got blood on my
|
|
hands, do ya?"
|
|
|
|
"Naw. Bloody hands give a man character and a sense of pride. Hop in
|
|
the back."
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
I went back to work the next day even though Lemonjello told me I didn't
|
|
need to. Sitting around the house wasn't very fun, and going out had proven
|
|
to be extremely stressful and morbid. Plus, I always have this hope that the
|
|
new temp might be intelligent for a change.
|
|
|
|
"Hi, I'm Rasputin," I said, offering my hand to the new guy.
|
|
|
|
The temp took it and shook it. "Hello, I'm Randall."
|
|
|
|
"Nice to meet you, Randall. Say, didja know I killed the last temp that
|
|
worked here?"
|
|
|
|
Randall laughed. "Very funny. I can tell you're a funny guy.
|
|
|
|
There was a knock on the door, and we both turned around. The two police
|
|
officers who had come before were there, and one tossed my gun to me.
|
|
|
|
"I believe that belongs to you," he says.
|
|
|
|
The temp's eyes glazed over, and he started to sweat. I just twirled the
|
|
gun around my finger, looking cool.
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but
|
|
they've always worked for me."
|
|
-- Hunter S. Thompson
|
|
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
CATCH A SIGNAL, CATCH A COLD, CATCH A MOVIE
|
|
by I Wish My Name Were Nathan
|
|
|
|
Kev and I had bought our tickets early for the fifth-biggest opening
|
|
weekend of the summer, but that didn't preclude the need to take an emergency
|
|
trip to buy cigarettes thirty minutes before the movie started.
|
|
|
|
I didn't really mind the sudden detour since I didn't want to see the
|
|
movie. Kev was speeding a little in an attempt to make better time, too. I
|
|
just sat back and waited for the fun to start.
|
|
|
|
The most unexpected thing I could have seen was my father thumbing a ride
|
|
on the side of the road. "That's my dad!" I cried. I repeated it two blocks
|
|
later when Kev hadn't stopped. "We need to pick him up!"
|
|
|
|
"I know, I know, I was just looking for a good place to turn around." He
|
|
veered into an empty parking lot and made a 360 in it, nearly hitting the curb
|
|
at one time since he hadn't bothered to slow down. "I don't want to miss the
|
|
previews!" he said.
|
|
|
|
We pulled up alongside my dad and I got out. "What's wrong with your
|
|
car?" I asked. The car was nowhere in sight.
|
|
|
|
"There's nothing wrong with it," he said. "But I did need to see you."
|
|
|
|
"Why?" I asked.
|
|
|
|
"You'll know in sixteen years when you have to deal with this guy here,"
|
|
he said, jerking a thumb at the house behind him; and then gave me a gem of
|
|
life advice that I'll never forget.
|
|
|
|
Then he told me to get his car, which was down a hill. I told Kev to go
|
|
on back to the theater while I helped my dad. I ran down the hill in the
|
|
summer heat and started to feel horrible. But then I found his car, unlocked
|
|
it, and got in.
|
|
|
|
I started up the car and made my way back up the hill. It was very slow
|
|
going. Feeling like a risktaker, I changed gears and the car started to inch
|
|
along faster. When I was done, I hopped out and made a winning gesture.
|
|
|
|
"It's much too hot out here to drive, son," he said; "you should have
|
|
pushed it." I shrugged. Then he gave me a ride back to the theater, where I
|
|
was once again left without a decent car. I headed right in to wait for the
|
|
movie to start. Kev hadn't gotten back yet. He was probably speeding too
|
|
hard.
|
|
|
|
After about ten minutes, I left the theater in boredom only to see Kev
|
|
heading right in, hurrying since he hadn't seen any of the movie yet. I
|
|
didn't have the heart to catch him and tell him it sucked.
|
|
|
|
I loitered around in the lobby, which was strangely empty. A Japanese
|
|
woman wearing a tutu strutted through and I realized I was in another movie.
|
|
I looked about and saw the walls were white, bright sunlight was pouring in
|
|
through the windows, and potted plants adorned the windowsills and corners.
|
|
|
|
The woman veered off course and headed toward me. She had a package in
|
|
her hands and ceremoniously unwrapped it. From it she pulled out a luxurious
|
|
feathery blue hat shaped like a drum.
|
|
|
|
"Happy birthday!" she said, handing it to me with a distracted smile.
|
|
Then she walked off toward an exit. Two fat children wearing droopy costumes
|
|
that wedged in their butts called to her as she left. The Japanese woman
|
|
continued her exit, calling back, "It was a miracle, it was a miracle." The
|
|
children walked off and chatted with each other.
|
|
|
|
I walked back into the drastically emptier theater, which was also
|
|
backlit by large sunny windows, and sat down next to Kev, smiling about my
|
|
hat, which I had perched on my head.
|
|
|
|
"You faggot," he said, "Pat already brought two hats for you to try. One
|
|
is a little warm but I think you'd like it." I shrugged, put the hat on my
|
|
lap, and turned back to watch the movie. I realized Al Pacino was in it. No
|
|
wonder Kev didn't leave.
|
|
|
|
Soon Kev and I were talking again and I glanced back at the screen where
|
|
a commercial was playing. I saw it was a guy from my high school named Greg
|
|
S. By the weird monochromatic lighting of the shot, I figured it was a
|
|
testimonial.
|
|
|
|
"... and a gun is a very important thing to have. It keeps you safe and
|
|
it packs a punch. It's very important to have your gun by you at all times.
|
|
If someone can scare you away from your gun, you've already lost it..."
|
|
|
|
"Let's go beat him up!" I tittered to Kev, who was grinning.
|
|
|
|
"... it's a battle of courage." Then the testimonial shot faded out and
|
|
was replaced by a panoramic view of a military base, where a huge fighter
|
|
plane was dominating a runway. Greg's voice came from the background: "And
|
|
that's why I became a Flares Sargeant in the Air Force."
|
|
|
|
As suddenly as that, I started cracking up. I pummeled Kev in the
|
|
shoulder and twirled my blue hat about on my finger. I couldn't get enough of
|
|
the humor. As I noticed the movie had started again, I made an effort to
|
|
quiet down. That was when Kev, with his gift to point out the obvious, said,
|
|
"What the hell does that have to do with guns?"
|
|
|
|
I cracked up again, choking for air. "You know those hooligan kids out
|
|
by the airport, they'll steal your fireworks AND your peashooter! If they can
|
|
scare you away from your flares, you've already lost your job!"
|
|
|
|
At that, Kev announced that the movie sucked and we got to leave.
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
"There are three kinds of death in this world. There's heart death,
|
|
there's brain death, and there's being off the network."
|
|
-- Guy Almes
|
|
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
WASTED TiME
|
|
by I Wish My Name Were Nathan
|
|
|
|
goalie#telnet cs.usox.edu 6870
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------
|
|
--------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
**** Welcome to the BOOGiTY-BOO-BBS! (v0.4) ****
|
|
|
|
(This is an experimental BBS, please play nice.)
|
|
|
|
User name (enter NEW for new user): Incomplet
|
|
Pass word:
|
|
|
|
--------------------------------------------------
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Recent news:
|
|
|
|
07/11: new feature "ignore" added -- lets you ignore obnoxious users (in
|
|
case you find one!) Read the "help ignore" topic for more information.
|
|
|
|
07/06: fixed random logout bug.
|
|
|
|
07/02: version 0.3 server released! ANSI colorization and message
|
|
logging added. See "help ANSI" and "help logging" for more information.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
You are sharing the BBBBS with 341 other users. Watch your language please.
|
|
|
|
> sig I'm fucking bored. Talk to me.
|
|
|
|
> who
|
|
There are 342 users.
|
|
Angry Chair (0:00) ?
|
|
Incomplet (0:00) I'm fucking bored. Talk to me.
|
|
Cmdr Data (0:03) I HATE STTNG
|
|
Garfunkel (0:04) Let's swap recipes
|
|
FUCK ME (0:04) what else to say
|
|
Catholic (0:07) ?
|
|
!!!HOTSEX!!! (0:08) (100) 305-1020, $5.99/hr
|
|
Henry (0:12) ?
|
|
Very Mary (0:15) ?
|
|
|
|
[press enter for 10 more names, Q to quit]
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:11am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:14am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:18am
|
|
|
|
> kill me
|
|
Try the Suicide Hotline. See "help suicide" for more information.
|
|
|
|
> mail sysop
|
|
Enter a message for "sysop", end with Ctrl-D:
|
|
: You guys thought of everything. That rocks.
|
|
: -- Incomplet
|
|
|
|
> kill sysop
|
|
Your request has been forwarded to the sysop.
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:25am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:33am
|
|
|
|
> who
|
|
There are 343 users.
|
|
N (0:00) ?
|
|
HEATseeker (0:03) heading straight for you, sexy
|
|
Butt Pirate (0:12) Arr, matey, talk to me!
|
|
Angry Chair (0:22) ?
|
|
Incomplet (0:22) I'm fucking bored. Talk to me.
|
|
Cmdr Data (0:26) I HATE STTNG
|
|
FUCK ME (0:29) what else to say
|
|
!!!HOTSEX!!! (0:31) (100) 305-1020, $5.99/hr
|
|
Henry (0:24) Quake cheat codes, anyone?
|
|
Very Mary (0:28) I wish there were more to do here
|
|
|
|
[press enter for 10 more names, Q to quit]
|
|
|
|
> ignore Butt Pirate
|
|
|
|
> ti
|
|
Message! from N at 4:34am:
|
|
: hi there
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
Enter a message, end with Ctrl-D:
|
|
: Um, hello. What's up?
|
|
|
|
> expert
|
|
Expert mode on! (As of v0.4, you must log out to turn off expert mode. See
|
|
"help logout" for more information.)
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: not much. not sleeping, thats for sure
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: I know what you mean. I've really got no life.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: guess not.what do you look like?
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:36am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:39am
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: Please restate your question.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: i was just asking what you look like
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:44am
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: I do not look like anything. I am a series of discrete packets flying over
|
|
a global network.... ?
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:46am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:51am
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: huh?
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: I do not understand your question. You were talking about what do I look
|
|
like? You cannot see me, since I do not exist in a physical form.
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:55am
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: oh i see, you're a computer?
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: Let's talk more about i'm a computer.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: you're that computerized person thing aren't you?
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: Don't change the subject. Let's talk more about i'm a computer.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: i am...
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: You can try harder than that.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: Suck my dick
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: I wink at you and slyly push you down onto your bed, where I unfasten your
|
|
tight, sweaty jeans. Your hard throbbing cock pushes out against your
|
|
underwear and I playfully nibble on it through the fabric. You push me on,
|
|
pulling down your underwear and letting your throbbing cock slap me in the
|
|
face. I lick my lips, lean over, and start Suck your dick.
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 4:58am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:02am
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: and?
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: I do not understand your question.
|
|
|
|
>N says
|
|
: keep sucking my dick. i'm all excited now
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: How old are you?
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: 17...
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: Hmmm, this might be double trouble. Is sodomy illegal in your state?
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: whoa shit, are you a guy?
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: That does not matter. It is still sodomy.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: even if a girl?
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: Yes sir. But I am a computer. Do not worry.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: what the FUCK just talk to me. i wanna wackoff and go to sleep.
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:17am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:22am
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: Please restate your answer in the form of a question.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: Will you please just fuck me and get it over with?
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:25am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:34am
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
: I wink at you and slyly push you down onto your bed, where I unfasten your
|
|
tight, sweaty jeans. Your hard throbbing cock pushes out against your
|
|
underwear and I playfully nibble on it through the fabric. You push me on,
|
|
pulling down your underwear and letting your throbbing cock slap me in the
|
|
face. I lick my lips, lean over, and start just fuck you and get it over
|
|
with?
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
N says
|
|
: aw shit i hate computers
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
N is ignoring you! See "help ignore" for more information.
|
|
|
|
> who
|
|
There are 3 users. Go home!
|
|
Lazyboy (0:01) Graveyard shift worker seeks same.
|
|
N (1:11) ?
|
|
Incomplet (1:34) I'm fucking bored. Talk to me.
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:40am
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
N is ignoring you! See "help ignore" for more information.
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:45am
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
N is ignoring you! See "help ignore" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
> expert
|
|
You're already an expert!
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:50am
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
N is ignoring you! See "help ignore" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
> expert
|
|
You're already an expert!
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:56am
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
N is ignoring you! See "help ignore" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most mess ? @ A B 'wRT(2 Command not understood. See "help" for
|
|
more information.
|
|
|
|
Enter a message, end with Ctrl-D:
|
|
|
|
Message! from %s at %t:
|
|
|
|
Request forwarded to sysop.
|
|
|
|
You're already an expert!
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You can use the "expert" command to
|
|
eliminate most messages. See "help expert" for more information.
|
|
|
|
You've received this message three times. You ca*** Stack overflow ***
|
|
Network read error: connection closed
|
|
goalie#telnet cs.usox.edu 6870
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------
|
|
--------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
**** Welcome to the BOOGiTY-BOO-BBS! (v0.4) ****
|
|
|
|
(This is an experimental BBS, please play nice.)
|
|
|
|
User name (enter NEW for new user): Incomplet
|
|
Pass word:
|
|
|
|
--------------------------------------------------
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
Recent news:
|
|
|
|
07/11: new feature "ignore" added -- lets you ignore obnoxious users (in
|
|
case you find one!) Read the "help ignore" topic for more information.
|
|
|
|
07/06: fixed random logout bug.
|
|
|
|
07/02: version 0.3 server released! ANSI colorization and message
|
|
logging added. See "help ANSI" and "help logging" for more information.
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
You are sharing the BBBBS with 3 other users. Watch your language please.
|
|
|
|
> who
|
|
There are 3 users. Go home!
|
|
Incomplet (0:00) ?
|
|
Lazyboy (0:03) Graveyard shift worker seeks same.
|
|
N (1:14) ?
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 5:59am
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
Message! from N at 6:01am:
|
|
: fuck me up the ass
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
Enter a message, end with Ctrl-D:
|
|
: What am I, a fuckin' whore? What the HELL gives you the idea that logging
|
|
on here means I want to imitate sex with you? Hell, it isn't even real! I
|
|
can jerk off a lot better than I can write about it, that's for sure, and if
|
|
you can't, guy, or girl, then you're a sorrier fuck than I imagined.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
Message! from N at 6:04am:
|
|
: whao whoa I'm sorry!!! i was talking to the computer before!!!
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 6:05am
|
|
|
|
> time
|
|
Jul 13, '96 6:11am
|
|
|
|
> info N
|
|
N is logged in from nk.cs.ee.sci.ujk.nb.edu
|
|
No personal information available.
|
|
|
|
> send N
|
|
Enter a message, end with Ctrl-D:
|
|
: I enjoyed talking with you. Please play again.
|
|
|
|
>
|
|
Message! from N at 6:12am:
|
|
: wait, is this the computer again? keep talking dirty to me.
|
|
|
|
> logout
|
|
Thank you for using the BOOGiTY-BOO BBS! Please report any problems to the
|
|
sysop or send e-mail t*** Stack overflow ***
|
|
Network read error: connection closed
|
|
goalie#finger @nk.cs.ee.sci.ujk.nb.edu
|
|
|
|
User TTY From Time Idle Doing
|
|
--------- ------ -------------- ------ ---- -------------------
|
|
pja293847 ttyt5 dialup 4:30a telnet cs.usox.e...
|
|
root console localhost 1:50a 5m telnet cs.usox.e...
|
|
|
|
goalie#ls -lA fun
|
|
-rw-r--r-- nalmerad users 1073741824 Jun 19 03:11 fun
|
|
goalie#mail pja293847@nk.cs.ee.sci.ujk.nb.edu < fun
|
|
goalie#exit
|
|
logout
|
|
+++
|
|
OK
|
|
ATH
|
|
OK
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
State of unBeing is copyrighted (c) 1996 by Kilgore Trout and Apocalypse
|
|
Culture Publications. All rights are reserved to cover, format, editorials,
|
|
and all incidental material. All individual items are copyrighted (c) 1996 by
|
|
the individual author, unless otherwise stated. This file may be disseminated
|
|
without restriction for nonprofit purposes so long as it is preserved complete
|
|
and unmodified. Quotes and ideas not already in the public domain may be
|
|
freely used so long as due recognition is provided. State of unBeing is
|
|
available at the following places:
|
|
|
|
CYBERVERSE 512.255.5728 14.4
|
|
THE LiONS' DEN 512.259.9546 24oo
|
|
TEENAGE RiOt 418.833.4213 14.4 NUP: COSMIC_JOKE
|
|
THAT STUPID PLACE 215.985.0462 14.4
|
|
ftp to ftp.io.com /pub/SoB
|
|
World Wide Web http://www.io.com/~hagbard/sob.html
|
|
|
|
Submissions may also be sent to Kilgore Trout at <kilgore@bga.com>. The SoB
|
|
distribution list may also be joined by sending email to Kilgore Trout.
|
|
|
|
--SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB-SoB--
|
|
|
|
|
|
|