103 lines
5.2 KiB
Plaintext
103 lines
5.2 KiB
Plaintext
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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #767
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`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
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888 888 888 888 888 "MIXIN' IT UP"
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888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
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888 888 888 888 888 " by GrlFrMars
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888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 7/28/99
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o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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For this article I've chosen a relatively commonplace topic, but one
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of great relevance to the lives of many. It's something that everyone
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does, has, enjoys. Something that, when given to someone special, can
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bring about a deeper level of intimacy. The same thing, when given out too
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freely, can cause great confusion and distress, plus it may cost a lot of
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money. Of course, I'm talking about mix tapes.
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We've all made them for those we love and admire, and for ourselves
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for various reasons. I usually make them for my friends so that they might
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learn about my musical taste, but I have encountered mix tapes with "a
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message;" one of love, hate, lust, etc. It is possible that those who make
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tapes with an overall message are incapable of expressing themselves in
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their own words, or have unauthentic emotions toward the person for whom
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they're making the tape. Yes, I confess, I've used the mix tape as a
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Macking device, but we all have. You know how it goes, put on lots of
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booty music combined with the occasional sappy love song, and you've got
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your Mackin' tape. But I digress.
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The inspiration for this text file is my discovery of a veritable
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treasure trove of old mix tapes during my move. Characteristic of me,
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none of the tapes had a label; I then made it my mission to listen to each
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and every one of them. After getting nearly halfway through, I came to a
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conclusion concerning myself and my mix-tape-making prowess. Hot damn, do
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I suck. I've got about 6 tapes of the same songs in different order, a
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few more nonsensical ones (as in the most random horrible music I've
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heard), and then some mix tapes people made for me. The ones from other
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people were by far better than the ones I'd made. These tapes were
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obviously made before I got my car, so that excuse is ruled right out.
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Why, by all things godly, would I have made so many tapes of my own music?
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I visited my university's department of Deciphering Mix Tapes to
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consult a few experts in the field. Who knows, maybe I'd learn something
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about myself. I had brought some tapes to them before, they have graduate
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students who analyze your tapes for free as part of their doctoral
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curriculum. I located my favorite student and emptied out my box of tapes
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onto her desk.
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"I see these are unlabeled," she said. "Very interesting, they offer
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much insight into the personality of the person who made the tapes."
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"I made the tapes," I said.
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She inched away from me slowly, and an uneasy feeling set in. She
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told me to come back later that afternoon for her diagnosis.
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Upon my return, I sensed a great deal of frustration in the
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atmosphere of the DMT building. There were students and professors milling
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around like I'd never seen before. I entered the grad student's office and
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found her sitting in the corner with her knees up against her chest. When
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she saw me, she bolted up, ran to her desk, grabbed a piece of paper and
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handed it to me. It was a formal-looking letter from the head of DMT. I
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left the student curled up in the corner and read the letter on my way out.
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It went something like this:
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[-----]
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Dear Miriam,
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After much careful consideration, we have reached the most difficult
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conclusion to the problem put forth by your collection of mix tapes. We
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brought in experts from other universities, and placed many calls to
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world-renowned mix-tape-ologists, and they all concluded thus:
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You need to get out more.
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Find a hobby that does not involve recording the same songs on many
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different tapes. Start crocheting, or kayaking, or take up the kazoo.
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Just please, don't make mix tapes for no reason. Use the delicate, beautiful
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tape-making process for useful purposes, for example; make tapes to listen
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to in your car, and make tapes for your friends.
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This is the best advice we can offer to preserve your psychological
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well-being. Take care, and use those blank tapes wisely!
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Warmest personal regards,
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The Department of Deciphering Mix Tapes.
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P.S. Can I get a copy of your Bjork CD? I'll give you a tape.
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[-----]
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So I guess this account of my mix-tape escapades has a bit of a
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moral, or it's just completely fucking stupid. The possible moral is, as
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explained by the DMT letter, use your mix tapes wisely. Another moral
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could be get out more. Anyway, thank you for partaking in another
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pointless chapter in my life. I can make you the soundtrack if you send me
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a tape.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #767 - WRITTEN BY: GRLFRMARS - 7/28/99 ]
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