169 lines
9.0 KiB
Plaintext
169 lines
9.0 KiB
Plaintext
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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #478 !!
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#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
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##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Yesterday Was A Text File" !!
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##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Styx !!
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..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 2/3/99 !!
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!!========================================================================!!
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yesterday was a text file i'll write right now. or, like, chronicle.
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whatever. words.
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so, ok. i woke up yesterday morning (which would have been 01/22/99)
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at 4:15a.m. this happened because i accidentally fell asleep the night
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before (01/21/99) at 9:30p.m. i missed the last half-hour of WCW Thunder.
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but that's alright. so the first point is that my sleeping schedule as of
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01/22/99 was really *off*.
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so after waking up at 4:15a.m. and not knowing what to do with myself
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until 9:00a.m. when i was due in for work, i decided to go there early. i
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arrived at work at 7:45a.m. since i'm talking about work, i'll have to
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explain what i do there.
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look, i know i'm not all that interesting. this text file isn't
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about *me*. it's about the *day*, so you can stop your internal dialogue
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[credit: Bill Hicks]. ok, so my work;
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you know how when you're flipping through magazines you'll come
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across an ad for, say, Sears, and there will be a toll-free number where
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you can order yourself a free catalog? and when you call, it's a recorded
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message? "at the tone, please say your first name. then press the pound
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key." "at the tone, please say your last name. then press the..." etc.
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okay, well, 70% of my job consists of transcribing all of the names of
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those sorts of people that call those things. so it's first name, last
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name, street address, city, state, zip, business, occupation, phone number.
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over and over. there are a lot of people out there that want free things.
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that's why they're calling, of course. so, alright.
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the other 30% of my job is Miscellaneous Debris. sometimes i go out
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to hotels and fix their voicemail systems or whatever. sometimes it's
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little things - fix a printer here, move a computer there, find warez for
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my bosses, whatever. it's a good job. it's stable. it sure beats the
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hell out of the gas station i used to work at.
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so on this particular day, which was 01/22/99, the amount of calls
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that came through for free catalogs was amazingly high. our client had
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started a new advertising campaign, so a lot more people were being
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exposed to the toll-free number. so i sat there for 10 1/2 hours doing
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*nothing* but data entry. it was taxing and annoying and exhausting. but
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i finished everything. i caught up the entire company. alright. so i
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done good.
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i signed out. "that's it for me, guys. i'm done for the day. see
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you on sunday." my boss nodded and i went out the door. got in my car.
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started it. my boss runs out of the office and motions me towards him. i
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opened my car door and screamed "what?" he said "i need help moving a
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computer." i screamed "fuck you" and closed the car door. he continued
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motioning. i stormed into the office, moved the computer, and stormed out.
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now i was angry and i was driving, and that's a retarded situation.
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in my anger i decided to get a brand new hard drive for my computer.
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it was the only thing that would drain me and leave me exhausted enough to
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be able to sleep. so i went to the ATM machine to get out some money.
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next to the ATM machine was a table with cookies and girl scouts sitting
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behind it, all virginal and pure and smug and waiting for a berating.
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you know, it's like.. i don't know - i kept my mouth shut. they asked
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me if i wanted to buy some cookies and i said no and got my money and drove
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to Best Buy and bought the Western Digital 10.1 gig Enhanced IDE hard drive
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for $199.00 after a $40.00 rebate. awesome price. i was glad. well,
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guilty, really, because i knew i couldn't *technically* afford it.
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but i mean, if i had enough money to buy it, then really i could
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afford it, so i don't even know how to use the word "technically"
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correctly there.
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whatever. words.
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so i am driving home from Best Buy and i realize that i have run out
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of cigarettes, almost. so i have to go to the ATM machine again so that i
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can get money for a carton. so i go to the ATM machine and the girl
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scouts were still there, and they asked me if i wanted cookies again. and
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this time i couldn't keep my mouth shut, because i was fuming, and i
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yelled at them.
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i told them that by sitting next to an ATM machine selling cookies,
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they force me into being an asshole if i decline a purchase. that they
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know i have the money. they watched me get it. that basically they are
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sitting there making everybody an asshole all night, and that was
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dishonorable and dirty and low. an asshole conveyor belt right next to an
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ATM machine. and i realized that here i am at 7:50p.m. on 01/22/99
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standing in an abandoned parking lot fiending for cigarettes and screaming
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at girl scouts. so i gave it up and walked to my car, smoke shooting out
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of my ears, and went to the pharmacy. bought the cigarettes. drove off.
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went to the local pizzeria and bought two pies for my family, because
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i knew they'd probably be hungry. besides, mother had given me money in
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the morning before work to pick up pizza on the way home. so really, i
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was just running an errand, not being particularly nice or considerate.
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there was a guy in line in front of me at the pizzeria. fat wallet
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pushing out of his back pocket. antenna from a cellphone sticking out of
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his breast pocket. a cigar poking out of his other breast pocket. this
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guy managed to fill all of his pockets with things that sucked, and on top
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of that he was telling the staff to "hurry it up, i'm in a rush." so, you
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know, i'm already on edge here. i shouted to the staff to take their time
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with *my* order because i had all night. he fidgeted. i thought he
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might've done something interesting. maybe he could've taken a swing at
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me. maybe spit at me. maybe a good verbal lashing. hit me on the head
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with his cellphone. but all i got out of him was a fidget.
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he probably knew that it'd just get me more annoyed.
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got my pizza and went home, finally. 8:30p.m. went upstairs to my
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room. well, my room *is* the upstairs. i rent out the renovated attic.
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so i went upstairs to my attic and begun the rigorous task of installing a
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new hard drive.
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my goal: install the new hard drive as the master drive, make my old
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drive the slave drive, and take all of the information from my old one and
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put it on my new one.
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what inhibited my goal; there is no bay for a second hard drive in
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my computer unless i call NEC directly and order their specially-sized
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rails.
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what happened: a computer, strewn around and rigged half-assed-like,
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with wires here and there and some knots and two hard drives twisted into
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each other to make it work. and it did. i had to trick my computer by
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putting in an extra jumper thing to make it think that it only had 4096
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cylinders or something so that my outdated BIOS could use the 10.1 gigs.
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something like that. i really don't know exactly what i did.
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result: 14 cigarettes later, one hard drive, the new one, with all
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of the data of my old hard drive on it.
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what counts, i suppose, is that i did it. i had never installed a
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hard drive before. i didn't know where to start. but i did it. and
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that's fucking cool, and i'm proud of myself. i'm not hardware oriented at
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all. at *all*.
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so then it's about 12:30a.m. (01/23/99) and i go online and i'm
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trembling with all of the leftover tension and anger from the day and i'm
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guzzling vodka trying to subdue myself and i stumble across Pezmonkey's
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page via the h0e staff page and i read "subtext." i don't know if she ever
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released it in an e'zine or whatever, but it's exceptionally good and i
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urge you all to go read it. it relaxed me a good deal and i was able to
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sleep without tossing and turning, which is actually the reason i had
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bought the hard drive, remember? to, like, export my negative energy. but
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it didn't work out that way. you can't buy happiness, as a trillion people
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i will not credit have said. but we still try. because we've been trained
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all these years into this process of thinking that the only way you *get*
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things is by handing over cash. but i dunno.
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whatever. words.
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i guess that's all, then. go read "subtext."
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http://www-scf.usc.edu/~lindseya/subtext.html
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- Styx
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- 01/23/99 - 11:47a.m.
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!!========================================================================!!
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!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #478, WRITTEN BY: STYX - 2/3/99 !!
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