303 lines
13 KiB
Plaintext
303 lines
13 KiB
Plaintext
Hotbot, hotbot, yahoo.com, yahoo. hotbot, excite, lycos, hotbot, yahoo.
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Hola, and welcome to ATI97, October 11, 1997. ATI is now reaching Portugal
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each week thanks to Barata Eletrica magazine.
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Rather than an editorial this week:
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I'm going to start with a poem editorializes
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for the-self. I'll be reprinting it in about 3 weeks in an effort to be
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"linear" (you probably figured that out already) but I felt this poem will
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be mondo-most apropos today. Aqui. Ahora. Ese. Here you go, me voy. (then
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we'll have Anarchist World News and a few submissions. Then we'll end with
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your regularly scheduled journal-pome. You can call this one a shorty. Be
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glad it's not a fatty.
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Sincerely yours,
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Prime Anarchist, h.a.c.
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- - - - - - ATI. No Link Left Un-Exp-Lored. - - - - -
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JP #27. by marco
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1992 In The Year Of Our
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Kristoffer K. Kolumbus.
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Dupont Circle, Washington DC.
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Buying, selling, trading guitar licks.
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Nutty Buddy bar, banana and
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Milk is a late night snack.
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Passed out in a whirlpool.
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Driving into suburbia in a Subaru.
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Billy Crystal gets a laugh and a
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Cry at the same time, Clown-genius he;
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Like sea salt. So delightful.
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Washington DC. District of Chinatown.
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Hard Rock Cafe has no herbal teas.
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Camcorders are rude; here - lemme suck
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The whole world into my own eyeball.
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Alcohol-free vegan restaurant, activist
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Leaning - called the "Sober Black Indian,"
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Buddhist nun makes salted plum tea; best
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PLUMbing cleaner in the hole wide world.
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& Navajo tea with a spoon of honey.
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Sal de mer, that sea salt. Mui delicioso.
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D.C. Capitol steps District of Collusion.
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Meeting Dan Quayle's page, petting his
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K-9 Unit MP dog. Tasked everywhere he goes.
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His buddy - so no one beats him up.
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Wild - wilding. District of Complicity.
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1992 In The Year Of Our Knights of Kolumbus.
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Rowhouse First and Florida; First & P. Wash. DC.
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Tell me the difference between
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Hot-tub, whirlpool and jacuzzi.
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Chopping wood for sweatlodge.
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Waterman, doorman, drum man, medicine.
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Toxins clean: better meds than laughter.
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National Cathedral, Washington DC.
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Cosmic Conversations: Garden of Sweetgrass.
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A poem about people who wear purple;
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The Paternal order of Poorly Planned
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Pious E-Piscopal Presentations.
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Well, this IS Turtle Island's ass end.
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Yeah, right front foot - walla walla, WA
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Left front paw - sunny southern cali-farm-ya
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Right rear?? Kenny BushPort, Maine.
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Left rear foot divides Miami? Cuba?
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& Turtle takes another big tinkle on
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District of Kolumbus.
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*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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PAWN
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(prime anarchist world newz)
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WASH - MILLION DOG MARCH GOES UNNOTICED
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Disagreement Over How Many Dogs Dug in During Demonstrations.
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It was Sunday, October 5, at 9pm in the Washington Mall. The Red Cross
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said 1.2 million dogs had gathered to bay for hours at the halfmoon and
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renew their commitment to their masters and their families.
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But Mall Security gave their usual official count of between 300K and
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750,000 dogs.
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"A couple million for sure," said official Million Dog March leader
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Ralph G. Rover, "but who's counting?"
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"Here we are 1.2 million strong," said spokesdog Muhommat Lasi, "and
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no one can stop us." He went on to say they were going to pee on every
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firehydrant, statue, and slow moving pedestrian they could find.
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Rin Tin Tin sang the national anthem, Benji said the interdognominational
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prayer while Felix the Cat, Miss Piggy and Jerry Seinfeld were all ordained
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with the new title "honorary-man's-best-friend."
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The interactive sound system, parking and waste removal services were
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provided by Bill Gates, Inc.
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All dogs were instructed to bring their own fannypacks full of vegetarian
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organic gourmet kibbles-n-bits so their urine could be extra yellow for the
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event.
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Rover and McGruff the Crime Dog are planning a lawsuit to force Mall
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Security to admit that more than a million dogs had come for the events.
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Capacity to the mall is well over 2 million dogs (1 million in peoplefeet)
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and Mall Security is on the record saying it was almost completely full
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but they refuse to say there were more than 750,000 in anything but an
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"off the record" release.
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"That's a lot of tongue licking, butt sniffing, wood chip scratching dog
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turnout," said Mall Security spokesanimal Captain Cat Woman, "but I hold
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to my 'under-a-million' figure."
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Woman went on to say how proud she was that dogs are going to make a
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renewed commitment to supporting their families.
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"Hope it happens," said Woman. "Hope it happens."
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-30-
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()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
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<><><> VONNEGUT CALLS DIANA UGLY <><><>
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Stiltshire, ENGLAND - Curtis Utensil. Special to the PAWN. Photos by Abbie
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Kunstler.
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Kurt Vonnegut, true to his irreverant style, said he won't mourn Princess
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Diana's death.
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This came as a shock to the whole family, according to the Queen who was
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astonished Vonnegut had the unmitigated gall, and "audacious balls of fire"
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to make his announcement during the open-casket ceremonies.
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"I mean look at her," said Vonnegut into a loudspeaker looking down into
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the gold-veneered 7-foot long silver studded box.
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"I mean she's so tall and lanky, got the honker from hell, and look.
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Little bugs are eating at her and stuff. For a blond, that's one ugly chick."
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Vonnegut mentioned that the Queen's comment offended him. "What does
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she expect me to wait until AFTER the ceremonies?? Let's wait a whole week,
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then. Then I'll talk. I know. 'Look, now there's mushrooms and maggots all
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over her, let's all mourn how much we miss her infested flea-bitten soul.'"
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Vonnegut says he doesn't care who he may have offended. He called the
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entire Royal Family a "looney bunch of whining old crazies," while at the
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same time thanking them for inviting him.
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"You've seen my works. I mince no words," he told the paparazzi after the
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funeral, while ramming his 1972 100cc BMW motor scooter into a camera
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tripod.
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"What'd you expect me to say she was pretty? Nice? Selfless?? A people
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person?! Hell with her. Fuck all of you. She's dead. Get over it!!!"
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Vonnegut's next novel, entitled "SCISSOR TONGUE" is due out next Friday
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in paperback. He claims to have started it a week ago.
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-#-
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ATI your hyper-learning center. Hacker Institute From Hell. Adult ED for
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the z-modem impaired.
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VOTING BOOTH
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VOTING BOOTH
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VOTING BOOTH
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VOTING BOOTH
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VOTING BOOTH.
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Did someone say Voting Booth???
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Which is truly less keystroke(s)?
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1)holding <ctrl> while striking <f5> or
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2)pushing <tab> then pushing <cr>
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If anyone's credible at Occupational Therapy or A&P please indicate with
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your vote. Anyone out there have opinions? ! <---- click here.
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(should the link fail, the booth is at:
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http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli/ATI.html 8-)
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ATI - Truly Exploring the way we telecommute, telecompute and telerepute
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5 facets at a Time. (and we promise not to use Buddhist monks, nuns
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and Swamis in our television ads.)
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/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
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/ and now a /
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/ word from /
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/ our sponsor /
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/-------------/
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/ Huh? /
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\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
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a day in a life (one of many) of a pot-smoker by sisyphus previously
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published in a recent hygienic fixx.
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I woke this morning at 5:30. I rose at 8:15. No aches or pains, no
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hangovers, nothing left over, just early morning bemusement. Pee'd, washed,
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drank fruit juice and started coffee heating. (Coffee IS addictive, I've
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recently found out. I hadn't had to go without coffee in years. At least. I
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found myself getting downright cranky. Not to mention not shitting right.
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Which, I suppose, would make ANYbody cranky.) Looked outside. Everything was
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still frozen. but the cold was moderating. The car was where I left it in
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the backyardparkinglot. There was squirrels in the trees, thinking on
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heading for the ground. J.A.C.S. was still sleeping. I let him lie and waited
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on the coffee. Put sugar and cream in the coffeecup. The squirrels got
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bolder. The coffee steamed and the squirrels got bolder still. I poured the
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coffee, stirred it and opened the upstairs back door. JACS was there before
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I had the back hall light on, but as he'd just got up, he wasn't bounding
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up and down the stairs at his usual wont. "Well, this works just fine," I
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thought. I opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and he was off like
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a shot. So were the squirrels. JACS sailed over the fence at the back of
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the parking lot and sailed back. Then down along the fence and up the other
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side. Over again at least once and then HE went and pee'd. I figured my
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coffee had cooled enough so I whistled him in and went and drank it. I
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suppose I should say my head was full of thoughts on the coming day, or that
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I got some sort of moral from JACS's early morning jaunt, but I didn't. I
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just went in and called my favorite BBS (Gemstone) to get my morning
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TradeWars turns in. The line was busy. So I called the MindPort dial-up and
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checked on my e-mail. 17. About half-and-half from the Ohmies echo and from
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the Fantasy-L writers newsletter. And one message to me from Mark-O Frucht.
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(ed. note: who the hell is that???) It wasn't about Steven Vincent Benet
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& James Merrill. Only commentary on his most recent cross-country hop
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(Connecticut to Wisconsin) and that it'd cost him $800 to repair the car
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enroute. (Well, Mark's more responsible than Cassady & Kerouac) I answered
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his letter, looked throught the alt.herbs, alt.native, and rec.backcountry
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newsgroups and remembered that I had to move the car before 9.
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(TO BE CONTINUED NEXT ISSUE...)
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****************************************
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* FREE COPIES OF STEAL THIS BOOK. *
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* *
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* http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli *
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* *
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* "look at the buddhist monk's head..."*
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****************************************
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The DUMPSTER.TXT file. By Aaron K. Trashing Engineer Extroardinaire.
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If you're travelling along the northern Ohio turnpike and you get the aching
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hungry feeling in your stomach, but you don't want to give your hard earned
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cash to the evil mega multi-national fast food industry (because you'd feel
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guilty once you got to the environmental conference in PA) then I've got a
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tip for you! As I can tell, every single service stop is identically
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designed, so after a couple stops you should have this down pat.
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While the rest of your crew is checking out the bathrooms, slip out the back
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of the service stop, going past the water fountain (there's only one water
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fountain at the service stops, so you'll know it when you see it.) and out
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around back. While scanning around for people especially workers, take a
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left, and continue acting non-chalant. Within moments, you'll arrive at a
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dumpster, which upon careful examination should reveal a heaping quantity
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of almost fresh donuts. Generally there is only one person who can even see
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you, and that's whomever is working in the gas booth out at the back of the
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service stop. Generally I think they are facing the other way. So even the
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self conscious dumpster diver, can feel safe and secure about diving in
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plain daylight in the middle of a major turnpike. To summarize. I think
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every service stop has a Dunkin Donuts. DD is well known for tossing out all
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the donuts they have on their rack and replacing them several times a day.
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(ed note: that's Michael Vele's job)
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And they put them in a dumpster. For maximum effect, make some prior mention
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of dumpster diving just as you pull into the service stop, and then when
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you rejoin your friends, walktowards them non-chalantly holding a donut in
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one hand whistling. Aaron.
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POLL II (in 2-d)
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What's your favorite town to dumpster dive in?
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Send all votes to ati@etext.org
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I'll publish results in the next 3 ATI's.
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Prime Anarchist's personal fave town to trash is Taos, NM.
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Especially nearest the Main Street Bakery. Mmmmm. I can smell the organic
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crackedwheat breads now.
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OK we end with another poem from Warrior Poets Society.
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WPS east is located at:
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http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli/WARR.html
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Why do we end with a poem?
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Cause after all is said and done, myth's all ya got.
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JOURNAL POEM 25 by 23-no-government (a k a prime anarchist)
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Pour you a cup of columbian in
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Coffeeville, Kansas; thinking,
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Now here's a town more worthy
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Of that "Beantown" nickname.
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Them badlands'll take your
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Feet if you'll let 'em.
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They call'm "El Morro."
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He's taken dogs, horses,
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Tiretreads & wagonwheels.
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So, watch your feet.
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Methodist pastor folds his feet
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Under his legs, smoking the pipe
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With the circle -- not preaching.
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With the people -- purely
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Prayerful purely fellowship.
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Powerful pipe that Chanupa.
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After smoking is almost always eating.
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Over frybread and milkweed greens,
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Zuni children teach me every swear
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They know from their own language.
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"OUR MISSION - YOUR FUTURE," warns
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Fort Leavenworth's front sign.
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Barely legible 'neath all those
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Wirebarbs. Hmmm, I think. Telling...
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-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
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/free/ /subscription?/ /send/
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SUBSCRIBE ATI /to/
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listserv@brazerko.com
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Send all submissions, letters to the editor and lovenotes to:
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ati@etext.org
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or click on the homepage at:
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http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli/ATI.html
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http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli/cygnus.html
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for back issues and to order t-shirts, hats and Cap 'n Crunch whistles.
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Hurry there's only _ left.
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Call 860-887-2600 ext. 5293 to hollar at the Prime Anarchist.
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And remember, 2morrow is international "DO NOTHING" day,
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So get out there and like they say in NIKEland,
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"Just do it."
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