s$ $$ .d""b. .d""b. HOE E'ZINE #999 [-- $$""b. $$ $$ $$ $$ -- ------------------------------------------- --] $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ss$$ "THE MADCAP LAUGHS" $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ by AIDS $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ 1/09/00 [-- $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ $$ -- ------------------------------------------- --] $$ $$ "TssT" "TssT" COUNT YONDER CLOCKS THAT TICK THE HANDS OF TIME tickety tockty sickity sockety slappery-doo sippery simperer sooie tired of all my lies being made public, he said, and I could only nod in response. Had only someone told Mister Jarett Kobek that the world was not prepared for those without a non-discloser policy, perhaps the crucifixion would have happened later than sooner. There were 18 before Christ and 1 after, and the last was the last, and his name was Kobek and the Pharisees and the Saducees did fear him as they feared God. For they knew he was not of God, but something bigger. THE HONESTY POLICY: and he didn't mean that the divine unity and st. sophia, ah st. sophia, he didn't mean that you gave out a thousand little disbursements of the bawdy details of your life, no, that could never be considered honesty, but rather a form of decadent self-deception; no, the honesty he brought was that in your face ruthless persecution of your human flaws. YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE IN LOVE but he told you it would be over by next summer; and was he ever right? 1 + 3 = 4 times a lady. What all the whores propound to have, but none really do. It's alright to push it so far push it so far up and in but the cervix is the end; but ah, this is why the Pharisees fled; he knew how to move INTO the cervix, bringing cancer and death at both hands: AND BEHOLD I SAW DEATH AND HE ROAD A PALE HORSE AND HELL FOLLOWED WITH HIM; verily, I did say, Here was the edited version of the new testament, not that it necessarily means anything to the likes of you: JOHN EPISTLES OF PAUL ACTS (with caveat introduction) It ever shall be hard for you to kick against the pricks. They burned brands of your heart into cattle in the heartland I o a m t u w V t I HAVE TRIED TO RECREATE HER HEART h t BUT EVEN IN THIS I AM A SICKENING a c FAILURE u r s Okay, so here's the thing, my life fucking sucks. plain and simple. And I'm not just bitching. It really does suck. THE HI-BIT HO-DOWN 8 yrs old - raped. 12 yrs old - raped again! c'est la vie! 14 yrs old - first true to life sexual experience 14-present age (201) - living with the stereotypical female nympho okay, got that out! Now, understand, even with this bullshit that happened in the BEG-inning of my life, I'm not upset at that (?) or the fact that it happened or my inability to properly use pronouns. I may-BE a bit sad at times that my innocents, all those wonderful jewish innocents, wasn't mine to give, but now as I see it I'm a lot stronger and less literate. After my first experience when I was 14, I started craving sex. not like you crave a candy bar or a mainline shot of dope, but a craving like i had never felt before. like it controlled my life. drove me to insanity a time or two... seriously i thought my mom was gonna put me in the ol' sanitarium once. but anyways, as I said it drove me. and before i knew it, i was classified as a "SLUT" or "WHORE." and it just made laugh. Like Mike Muir. well not in the beg-inning. i cried until it hurt to cry, then i lost my ability to feel pain. people are mean. thats all there is to it, you get pas that, and you get past just bout anything. EXCEPT YOUR FUCKING RAPES, YOU STUPID JACKASS. well i have had a lot of partners, and i guess now, if i looked back i was a slut. but i was always protected, even when i conceived my son. whom now is 3 yrs old. Yes, this curse will perpetuate indefinitely and it will cost AIDS 50% of his salary in my welfare checks. Also defense budget. i was 16 a the time of his birth. and it was hell. but again, i am off the subject i'm trying to get out here. i don't get where people get off being so high and mighty. classifying everyone and everything that they aren't like they were darwin. if fucking pisses me off. god, if they only knew what it was like to be in my shoes once. when i was lil' and ignorant of what was happening to me. i think that that was what really has the biggest impact on my life, i mean, i didn't care about sex as an intimate thing between two people who cared about each other, it was a drug. something i just had to get. i was a 15 year old boy. why should any have to deal with this pain? how can i laugh tomorrow when i can't even smile today? why should people be able to get away with this torture? now you know my life story. well my life sucks. plain and simple. and if you don't agree, eat me. i want it bad. i live in this hell, the hell others created for me. I call this hell "earth". WHAT IS THE OBJECTIVE LESSON OF THIS FILE? YOU FUCKING NEED THERAPY, YOU DUMB BITCH GET INTO IT AND STOP HAVING CHILDREN I DON'T EVEN WANT TO PAY FOR MY OWN LET ALONE YOURS How did I meet you? I don't know! A messenger sent me in a tropical storm. THE MAGICAL MYSTICAL ART of surrealism or THE HOE FILE "LIFE" by LIL' TAZ (#905) as perceived as the GUNS N FUCKING ROSES SONG "rocket queen" After my first experience when i was 14, i started craving sex. not like you crave a candy bar or a cigarette, but a craving like i had never felt before. like it controlled my life. drove me to insanity a time or two... seriously i thought my mom was gonna put me in a mental ward once. but anyways, as i said it drove me. and before i knew it, i was classified as a "SLUT" or "WHORE." and it just made me laugh. If I say I don't need anyone I can say these things to you 'cause I can turn on anyone Just like I've turned on you I've got a tongue like a razor A sweet switchblade knife And I can do you favors But then you'll do whatever I like well i have had a lot of partners, and i guess now, if i looked back i was a slut. but i was always protected, even when i conceived my son. whom now is 3 yrs old. i was 16 at the time of his birth. and it was hell. but again, i am off the subject I'm trying to get out here. Here I am And you're a Rocket Queen I might be a little young But Honey I ain't naive i don't get where people get off being so high and mighty. classifying everyone and everything that they aren't. it fucking pisses me off. god, if they only knew what it was like to be in my shoes once. when i was lil' and ignorant of what was happening to me. Here I am And you're a Rocket Queen oh yeah I might be too much But honey you're a bit obscene i think that that was what really has the biggest impact on my life, i mean, i didn't care about sex as an intimate thing between two people who cared about each other, it was a drug. something i just had to get. i always want to be different, try to be at all times. and so when people criticize me now, i laugh. its funny to me to be called a slut. i mean, my normal remark is, "yer just jealous cause your not getting as much as i am. I've seen everything imaginable Pass before these eyes I've had everything that's tangible Honey you'd be surprised I'm a sexual innuendo In this burned out paradise If you turn me on to anything You better turn me on tonight and then sometimes, i still go home lock myself in my room and cry. I see you standin' Standin' on your own It's such a lonely place for you For you to be If you need a shoulder Or if you need a friend I'll be here standing Until the bitter end why should anyone have to deal with this pain? why should people be able to get away with this torture? now you know my life story. well my life sucks. plain and simple. if you don't agree, eat me. i live in this hell, the hell others created for me. No one needs the sorrow No one needs the pain I hate to see you Walking out there Out in the rain So don't chastise me Or think I, I mean you harm Of those that take you Leave you strung out Much too far Baby-yeah uh, superfluous lyrics that not lend themselves to my cause: Don't ever leave me Say you'll always be there All I ever wanted Was for you To know that I care NEW GUNS in '00!!!!!!! YEAH FUCK YEAH!!!!!!! FUCK YEAH LIVE YOUR LIFE LIKE IT WAS A COMA!!!!! HAHAHAH!!!!! WHAT'S UP MOTHERFUCKERS?! welcome to the guns n' fuckin roses newsletter NUMBER ONE!!! AHAHAH!! this is the text file group about fuckin' doin what's right, ROCKIN' AND FUCKIN' ROLLIN' UNTIL YOUR HEADS FALL THE FUCK OFF!!! AHAHAHA!!!! we have ONLY one rule and thats: NO PUSSIES!!!! THAT MEANS YOU JAMESY YOU FUCKIN NIGGER-LOVER!!!! FUCK YOU!!! YOU THINK WE GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR BULLSHIT LIES?!! EAT SHIT, FAGGOT! YEAH! listen this motherfuckin textfile group COMIN' ATCHA is no fuckin' joke!! we want all you fuckin' pussies out there to know that your time has fuckin' come!!! you hear that, JAMESY, YOU SHIT-TALKING ASS-SUCKING PANSY!!! it's about time you fuckin' got WHAT'S COMING TO YA!!! AAHAHAHAH!!! YEAH MOTHERFUCKER! just never show your face around us real rock n' rollin' motherfuckers or i guarantee you you will get your fuckin' ass kicked!!! we don't take excuses from nigger-lovers, ASSHOLE! OK!! ROCK THE FUCK ON!!!! I DON'T THINK I EVER WANNA COME BACK TO THIS WORLD AGAIN / take me away from this modern world / I AM AXL ROSE WE ARE ALL AXL ROSE NIKE ENDORSEMENT DAN BEN SPAZZING SWOOSH BABY SWOOOSH YEAH CAITLIN LISTENING TO MP3S IT's THE TOURE TO END ALL TORURE I CAN'T HELP IT HELP I AM LOS IN THIS SEA HELP HELP HELP HEP HELP HELP HEP CATS DANCE ON MY HEAD ON MY FLOOR FUCKING GETTING BUSY ON MY COUCH WHAT WAS BUGS' MISTAKE? (see below) Bugs' mistake was meeting the Brown Detective Agency alone. Sally held Bugs down and sodomized him with a power drill. By the time she had worked her way up to the three-eighths-inch bit, Bugs was in a talkative mood. Encyclopedia Brown elicited the appropriate confession and obtained a full refund for the other kids. Sometimes, not having a shred of evidence is no obstacle for a real sleuth. Encyclopedia Brown does it again! THERE'S A CIVIL WAR GOING ON IN KOBEK'S BODY RIGHT WHO'S MORE RACIST T-CELLS OR HIV VIRUS? T-CELLS CUZ T-CSELLS HATE T-CELLS TOO! THERE'S SOME SHIT GOING ON WITH JARETT'S BODY1 THERE'S A CIVILKW AR GOING IN KOBEK'S BODY RIGHT NOW THERE'S T-CELLS AND THE HIV VIRUS CAN'T OPEN A DISCO WITHOUT IT CLOSING IN 3 WEEKS CAN'T GO SEE A MOVIE THE FIRST WEEK IT OPENS WHY? HIV SHOOTING UP THE SCREEN WHAT KIND OF IGNORANT ASS SHIT IS THIS? --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- GRAB THE GATOR! FREE SOFTWARE DOES ALL THE TYPING FOR YOU! Tired of filling out forms and remembering passwords? Gator fills in forms and passwords with just one click! Comes with $50 in free coupons! Click Here ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Community email addresses: Post message: wickerman@onelist.com Subscribe: wickerman-subscribe@onelist.com Unsubscribe: wickerman-unsubscribe@onelist.com List owner: wickerman-owner@onelist.com Shortcut URL to this page: http://www.onelist.com/community/wickerman ------------------------------------------------------------------------ There are 5 messages in this issue. Topics in today's digest: 1. Vids From: turnbuis@dcs.gla.ac.uk 2. re: vids From: mark@mpaa.freeserve.co.uk 3. Re: Vids From: "Mark Coyle" 4. Re: Vids From: "Mark Aldridge" 5. Re: Vids From: "Mark Coyle" ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ Message: 1 Date: 29 Nov 1999 10:43:46 -0000 From: turnbuis@dcs.gla.ac.uk Subject: Vids Hello Wicker men and women I joined this community thing last night and sent a message but it didn't seem to be posted. So I have sent it again. There was a copy of a 101 min cut video of TWM available at Amazon yesterday for $49 which is circa M-#27. I heard about the WM originally from a Cockney friend who did impersonations of Edward Woodward's Scottish accent A few months later I saw the documentary and then Channel 4 showed the film. At the time I was in my final year of a Politics degree at Glasgow University and was reading Nietzsche and studying fascism, the film fitted right into those theories of religion and also I found parallels between Lord Summerisle and the charismatic leaders of cults etc. it was these theories that the likes of Hitler based their style of leadership etc. I won't bore you with all this crap, but TWM has to be the most thought provoking and intelligently scripted film I have ever seen. They should be showing it in schools! I wish I had known about that showing in Falkirk earlier as I would have gone. Public Health Warning: I am now about to ask the VIDEO QUESTION. I have only seen the bastardized butchered cut, and would understandably like to see the full version which acc. to a website offers much more character and story... The information I have got so far is out of date. I know it's boring and you all probably know the answer, but could someone clear it up for me... has the full 104 version been released as a video in the UK over the last 18 months? I remember seeing posters for Tower records advertising a release of TWM on hoardings in the Glasgow Subway, the vid cover was light blue and had a pic of the blazing wicker man and Britt Ekland's face horizontally across the bottom. I have been knocking my pan out going round shops looking for a copy all I can find is the Terror something release in a dark cover. I'd imagine one of you might have the edition I'm talking about, if so could you please put me out of my misery and tell me which version it is. __________________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________________ Message: 2 Date: 29 Nov 1999 11:39:38 -0000 From: mark@mpaa.freeserve.co.uk Subject: re: vids Forgive me for not replying directly, but I am not reading this from home. OK, the situation with the video is that there has been no re-release in the UK. The cover that you mention sounds like the most recent US home video release. The only copy that has ever been available on video over here is the butchered 87 m print. The only times that the 102m print has ever been seen is in the two mid 1980s home video releases in the USA, on the Magnum and Media labels. These are both n ow deleted, but the Magnum release regularly turns up on Ebay - http://www.ebay .com The 102m print is being very elusive, and it appears (correct me if I'm wrong Allan) that there has only been one copy of this long print in existence since its release. IRC it was found in one of the proposed American distributors' offi ce - Roger Corman? I'm not entirely sure. Regardless, this print isn't actually very good (all horrible and yellow), but worse than that the Master Tape appears to have gone walkabouts. This means that the only existing copies may well be the VHS ones. Which would be very sad. Luckily, prints of the 95m version *do* exist on videotape, and this is the versi on that was shown on Moviedrome and Sky Movies Gold. The print shown on Channel Four is the 87m one. It's worth noting for those who haven't bothered to record this though that it is an exceptional good print. AFAIK, no plans for a re-release in either the cinemas or on video (the 87m video is now technically deleted either side of the pacific, BTW) Like I said, correct me if I'm wrong, Allan. Mark _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ Message: 3 Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 18:48:11 -0000 From: "Mark Coyle" Subject: Re: Vids Hi. > I joined this community thing last night and sent a message > but it didn't seem to be posted. So I have sent it again. I got a 102 minute version from Luminus video which claims to be a Warner Home video (UK) version and has a Warner sleeve with 102 Minutes as the length. It is the full 102 version (I had a dup of the limited US release and compared).. The "warner original" is obviously a very good quality duplicate, I think anyway. That may be your best way to get it. It came like any other original, full box and colour sleeve, this has The Wicker Man and Edward Woodward's face on the sleeve. Lumin us still sell it I think. > The information I have got so far is out of date. I know it's boring an you > all probably know the answer, but could someone clear it up for me... > has the full 104 version been released as a video in the UK over the last > 18 months? No. Not to my knowledge. cheers mark __________________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________________ Message: 4 Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 22:08:51 -0000 From: "Mark Aldridge" Subject: Re: Vids I have never heard of this tape, and am totally confused! Who is Luminus and where did you actually get the tape from - as in country and store? Mark a story: the day the end will world It already happened. I knew it was all over when Mogel said, "Hey, Jarett, you know, Poppy Z. Brite wrote for cDc." So I went and looked and oh god, it was a post-mortem love letter to william s burroughs and I just wanted to bring the whole world crashing down on my shoulders, because clearly atlas had SHRUGGED! It was all over then all of it all the pussy and perversion and preternatual paternity suits... It was all over then. My grandfother sold manhattan to the white man. I am so hot for it i am so hot for it. Please save me. Pelase please save me from myself! I CAN"T SAVE OU! I CAN"T EVEN SAVE MYSELF! AH GOD I RETURN TO CAILTIN'S Mp3 COLLECTION AGAIN! AHHH IN THE MIDDLE AGES THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN WORSE THAN THE RACK!!! AHHHHHHHH SEX IS SOMETHING EVERYBODY NEEDS I KNOW ALL THE TIME FELLAS IT'S HARD TO USE A TROJAN JIMMY CAN'T BREATH EVERYBODY WANTS EVERYBODY LOVES EVERBODY NEEDS FEEL ALL CLOSED IN HAhahah if I were the sort of fellow who cared to tell, what stories there would be... You'd be shocked, but I can't bring myself to do it, for a variety of reasons, but mostly because I'm too polite. An angry debate has erupted in France over the increasingly negative reviews being delivered to French films by local critics. As reported by a Paris-based correspondent for the London Sunday Times, the debate reached its peak last week when director Patrice Leconte proposed that negative reviews be banned until audiences have a chance to make up their own minds about new releases. In addition, a manifesto published by a group of French film devotees declared that French critics were experiencing a "crisis of intelligence and competence" and concluded: "We have everything to lose if the critics treat us this way, and the Americans have everything to gain." Critics shot back that if the filmmakers (who are largely state supported) made watchable films, they would not be attracting negative reviews. The debate occurred during a week when Disney's Tarzan set a record for the biggest opening-day take in French history. Commented the Sunday Times correspondent: "Given the choice of a Disney movie and a homegrown selection of dreary meditations on unhappy families and bad sex, French film-goers voted with their eyeballs." Bills for the Spring 2000 semester will be mailed beginning December 6, 1999. Please verify that your address is correct by checking on "Albert". This will ensure the receipt of your spring registration bill. PLEASE VERIFY THAT YOUR SOUL IS ON TOP OF THE SOUL MENDING GAME / I WON'T TAKE ANY BLAME / when I write poetry and I need to emphasize words, I have come upon the amazing idea / I will just capitalize my words / LIKE THIS / See? / Why did you have to come into MY BEDROOM at night, FATHER? / Why did you have to PENETRATE ME? / I was your LITTLE GIRL and you ABUSED me / I don't want to DIE tonight LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS I always remember seeing the bumper sticker on the tractor and I wondered then and I wonder now if hirohito knew that I would drive it over him as I did. THE THE ACTUALITY OF YOUR OWN EXISTENCE: the secrets of their lives is S-E-sssh! FIVE WACKY PROLETARIAT ENGLISH IDIOTS! S-E-echz LIVING THE BIOSPHERE won't you come around here? Won't you blow your bubbles here? Saved saved we're all saved from something but was there ever a present danger in the first place? Lord, I don't know. THE SECRET OF THEIR LIVES IS S-E-X. I can smell the v.d. in the club tonight. You turn my heart on. Can't you feel it rhythmically beating to the pounding of my erection? PULSE PULSE BEAT BEAT I wanna come all over you BABY, and when I CUMMMMM, my CUMMMM will the the elixir of life that Ponce de Leon and Polly Jean Harvey sought for all of time. We've all become WILHEM REICH in our young age.. THE SECRETS OF THEIR LIVES IS S-E- Talk to me about all those men you were with, and oh, let's not forget all my ladies; now that we've discussed the pussy and the dick, which always are and always have been and always will be, now that we've discussed the ORGASM: we're all part of the club. THE HUMAN CIRCUS OF SEX. Yes, climb aboard. I know you need to talk to me about getting sucked off, JUST ONCE MORE; I know you need to tell me about how he fucks like a pimp, AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. The monotony of lust never ends... We keep it real. REAL STUPID. THE SECRET OF THEIR LIVES IS S-E- hex. How many more times, God? How many more times do I have to be in on the joke? The joke that is the merging of flesh into some Aristophanic being. THE JOKE OF WHICH I'M ALWAYS THE PUNCH LINE. I wish I could be a little less sensitive to the shit, but I can't. The worst is how /boring/ it really is. I could see suffr'ing through it all if it was interesting, if it was somehow funny, or anything, but it isn't. It's over and done with. The joke has ceased to be amusing. You can't impress or shock. I was fucking Grecian boys before you were a mote in God's eye, and I was red socking their /legs/. What? Don't you get it? Probably not. You're all amateurs. Remember that the next time you go to talk to me about your multitudinous orgasms. You're bad at sex; you're an amateur. And all the children cried on blackberry lane. In nomine Patres, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen. "HAHAHAH REMEMBER WHEN YOU FUCKED THAT GIRL?" 'HAHAHAHA OH NO MAN HAHAHAH NO DON'T SAY THAT! NOT IN FRONT OF PEOPLE!" "HAHAHAH REMEMBER HOW YOU SAID HER PUSSY WAS SHAPED LIKE A..." "NO!!!!!" "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA MAN WHY NOT?" "HAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA CUZ MAN I DON'T WANT HER TO KNOW MAN! HAHAHAHA DON'T SAY IT FRONT OF HER MAN! AHHAHAAH! BABY UH DON'T PAY ATTENTION BABY! HAHAHAH IT'S JUST YOU KNOW HAHAHA A SEX STORY! AHAHHAAH OH MY GOD SEX!!! 1HAHAHA IT'S FO FUNNY !!! JESUS CHRIST!!! MY DICK WAS IN HER MOUTh!!! HAHAHAHAH OH MY GOD, BABY, MY DICK HAS BEEN IN YOUR MOUTH! HAHAHAHHAHAAH OH SHIT IT'S SO FUNNY AHAHAHAHAH OH GOD I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING HAHAHAHAHA OH FUCK IT'S SEX HAHAHAHAHAHAHA OH SHIT SEX AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA SEX HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA SEX AHAHAHAHAHHAHA SEX AHAHAHAHAHHAHA VAMPRIE BAT BITE SEX AHHAHAHAHAHAHA OH JESUS LORD IN HEAVEN ABOVE AHAHAHHAHAH SEX AHAHHAAHHA ORAL SEX AHHAHAHAHAHA DICK SUCKING HAHAHAHAHA PUSSY EASTING HAHAHAHAHAH AMY SEXUAL EXPERIENCE IS THE VALIDATION FO THE FACT THAT I HAVE /SEEN/ THE DARK UNDERCURRENT OF LIFE HAHAHAHAHAHA OH GOD HAHAHHAHAHAHA I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING AHAHAHHA IT'S A PERFECT DAY.... FOR SEX!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA CAN'T YOU HEAR MY DRUM MACHINES BEATING TO THE RHYTHM OF SEX? AHHAHAHAHAHAHA OH GOD AND THEN I CAME HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! OH GOD!!! HAHAHAHAHA SEX!11! HAHAHAHAHA JESUS CHRIST SEX!!11 AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAH OH LORD IT'S SEX IT'S SEX CAN'T STOP LAUGHING ABOUT SEX!!! HAHAHAH ALOOOK! !!! IT'S SO SCANDALOUS THAT I SAID SEX!!! HAHAHAHA THAT'S FUNNY TOO!!1! WOW THE WHOLE HUMAN REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM IS THE FUNNIEST JOKE I EVER HEARD!! HAHAHAHA! PLUS IT MANES I CAN VALIDATE MY EXISTENCE LIKE A PARKING STAMPED TICKET HAHAHAHAHAHA OH LORD HAHAHAHHAHA I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING ABOUT SEX!!!! I'M LIKE ROBERT PLANT!! !I CAN'T STOP TALKING ABOUT LOVE!11 HAHAHAHAHAHA OH GOD SEXXXX!!1 I GOT TO REGULATE!!!! AHHAHAHA REGULATE MY TALKING ABOUT SEX!!!! OH GOD HOW CAN I BE DOING THIS IN FRONT OF MY GIRLFRIEND!!! HAHAHAHA IT GIVES ME THE EXCUSE TO WAX EMBARRASSED!!! HAHAHAH JESUS SEX!!!! AHHAHAHAHA OH LORD!!!! HAHAHAHS EX!!! AHAHHA EX!!1! SEX IS AWESOME!!11 HAHAHAH DAMN IT'S SO GOOD!!!! SEX!!!! WOW!!!! AHAHHAHA SEX!!!! WOW!!! AHHAHAHHAHAHHA EVEN THOUGH PEOPLE HAVE BEEN HAVING SEX FOR YEARS NA DYEAR AND YEARS AND HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF YEARS AND THERE ARE RECORDS OF SEXUALITY ACTIVITY AS FAR BACK AS HUMAN HISTORY GOES I'LL CONTINUE TO SPEAK OF SEX AS IF IT'S SOME NOVELTY!!1 AHAHHA OH MY GOD IT'S SO NOVEl!!! HAHAHAHAH JESU CHRISTO!!! IT'S THE LATEST THING!!1! YES!!1 SEX!!! IT'S CALLED THE RADIOACTIVE FLESH!!!! IT'S THE LATEST AND THE LAST!! !HAHAHAH OH LORD SEX!!1! HAHAHAHAH!!1 GOD I CAN'T STOP TALKING AOBUT SEX!!1 HAHAHAHAHA WHERE ARE THE GIRLS THEY NEED TO /CUM/ SERVICE ME!!! HAHAHAHA LOOK!!! SEXUAL DOUBLE ENTENDRE!!!! I'M JAMES BOND!!! HAHAHAHA HE HAD A LOT OF SEX WITH A LOT OF HOT GIRLS!!! HAHAHA SEAN CONNERY HAD SEX!!! HAHAHA ROGER MOORE HAD SEX!!1 HAAAHAHAH TIMOTHY DALTON HAD SEX!!!! HAQHAHAHAA PIERCE BROSNAN HAD SEX!!!! AHHAH DENISE RICHARDS MADE OUT WITH NEVE CAMPBELL HAHAHA!11 OH JESUS CHRIST SEX!!1 HAHAHA WE'RE ALL A BIG HUMAN FAMILY AND THE TIE THAT BINDS IS THE JOKE THAT IS SEX!!1 HAHAHA OH LORD SEXXXXX AHHAHAHA I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING JAHAHAHAHAHA SEX!11 ORAL SEX!11 ANAL SEX!1 1GIVIGN IT UP AND LOVING IT AHAHHAHAHA OH SEX SEX SESX SE SX SE S XEX EJCJJRSJF VAMPIRE BAT BITE SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX!!1 HAHAHA JESUS OH LORD!!! HAHAHA I'D GIVE UP MY WHOLE LIFE FOR SEX!!!! FOR JUST A GOOD SCREW I'D GIVE IT ALL AWAY!!! HAHAHA AND IT' BE FUNNY, TOO, BECAUSE I'D BE HAVIGN _sex_ from a lot of people AHHAHAHAHAHAHAH SEX!!! OH MAN!!! SEXXX AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ;) AHAHAHAH SEX ;) LOOK! I'M WINKING CUZ I'M TALKING ABOUT SEX!!! AHAHHAHAHA OH GOD!!!!!! SEX!!!!! YEAH MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!!! SEX!!!!!! ;) ;) ;) woOOOOOOOO I LOVE ME SOME SEXXXXXXXXXX SEX IS SOMETHING THAT EVERYBODY WANTS EVERYBODY LOVES AND EVERYBODY NEEDS AHAHAHHA SEEEEXXXXXXXXXX YEAH I LOVE SEX!!!!" memoirs of a geisha: or, the pursuit of gravity in literature is the writer's ability to maturely relate to the topics of SEX and DEATH Since I've blown number 1, let's how I can do with 2, eh? shit, well, damn, no one's really died too tragically on me, except my aunt, but you know, that's deeply HIDDEN IN THE UNDERCURRENT OF REALITY WHICH ONLY MY HISTRIONIC EMOTIONAL STATE CAN TAP INTO... but uh, maybe I can pretend that I'm torn up inside over the suicide of this kid Butthead. He was a modem guy and he knew teletype and now he's dead. He's DEAD! It feels like a chunk of my heart is missing! A piece of my soul evanesced into another world... How can I go on without you, Mark? Without your butthead looking face and sounding voice? Without watching you fuck retards on acid in the back of a cripple's van? Without her telling me I'm a werewolf? It's a perfect day to kill yourself! God why? I heard my sister's cry from the other room, why'd you have to pussy out? Life could have gotten better! I would have helped you make it better but you had to die! Oh and now it sucks for me, but I'm not going to be a coward like you were, I'm not going to pussy out of life; I'm going to stick it out. I'm going to brave it. I'm going to kick the world in the ass just to show you up. You miserable bastard, why'd you have to leave me alone? You're dead and gone and gone and dead, and I'm here by myself wondering how I go on without you. Listen to the wind blow, I'm sad sad without you and I miss the sounds of your 808 on the stereo. It doesn't matter that I met you probably 4 times in my life, no, because I KNEW YOU and you KNEW ME as soon as we met. Our minds in a perfect syncopation of thought and being; you knew as well as I did that I would prostitute the finer moments of my life for the sake of a joke or for a vainglorious attempt at art, you knew all my secrets, and I knew all of yours! You were the best friend I didn't need to speak to, because we were so close that all of our thoughts and deeds were like the respective other's. OH GOD, MARK "BUTT HEAD" SCHULZ, you jewish fellow, how ever am I to go on without you? My cat's meowing it and reminds me of you. The city is bleeding and it reminds me of you. The night is full of scents and it reminds me of you. Everything is you and everything was you, and you are dead and life is empty. LIFE IS EMPTY. It shall be hard for me to kick against the pricks. I'm trapped here, but I'm not going to give you the pleasure, hell no, I'm not going to let you see me QUIT like you did. I'm not a coward like you, MARK "BUTT HEAD" SCHULZ, no, I'm a real person. I'm not a hero and I'm not a brave person, but I can't do what you did. END OF EULOGY FOR BUTT HEAD Well, how was that? Did I make the grade? Ain't I a woman? AM I REALLY REAL? Is my literary attempt 1/2 of the way towards writing maturity? Got lucky, got lucky in time; will you beat me with a whip? yeah yeah sexual pleasure hahahahahah SEX!!!!!! from the pain others inflict sexual pleasure from inflicting pain; you're either one or the other but never both. Never both. I need to see you bleed before I can get off. It's the blood that makes life. FOR THE BLOOD IS THE LIFE. It's a perfect day to beat your lover. the things i could tell you about her blood red ass. ain't it shame to have leadbelly stab his manager on a sunday? Ain't it a shame to beat your wife on a sunday? When you got MONDAY, TUESDAY, WEDNESDAY, THURSDAY, FRIDAY AND Sat-ur-hamlet written by THOMAS KYD who wrote the spanish tragedy, a play I've seen TWICE in less than a week. Isn't that crazy? I wish I lived in England, cuz I'd just go see the summer season of the RSC every summer. and fuck, it would rock. The Ur-Hamlet was entitled _HAMLET, REVENGE!_ this is historical fact The Ur-Jarett was called "JAROD". This is personal fact Jarod is a pretender, a very intelligent person with the ability to slide into somebody else's personality. For that purpose, he has been taken from his family as a child in order to work for a secret agency called The Centre. But recently, he escaped. Jarod's new mission in life is to help people in need with his gift, and to find out what really happened to his allegedly dead parents. Only, Miss Parker and her team are out to get him... OUT TO GET HIM PREGNANT Jarod, a boy genius with a special gift for pretending, was kidnaped and held prisoner by a corporation that used him as a human simulator in their clandestine research. Escaping from The Centre more than 30 years later, Jarod now searches for clues to his true identity and family. He also uses his ability to quickly become an expert at anything to right wrongs and exact revenge on the wicked. All the while, Centre operatives led by Miss Parker work relentlessly to capture Jarod, and return him to The Centre. dont ask me to keep your mother chained to the radiator she keeps bothering me rattling a chain against the metal "But Sam," I, so called Jarett, said, "why would I want to inflict pain on her? I'm don't want to hurt her. I love her." "You're a sadist, Jarett." "I've always considered my self a secular humanist." "A prime example of your sadism." the ol marky-mark de sade himself was a corpulent piece of shit who didn't really practice what he preached, but thankfully popular myth and urban legend has transformed him into a startling sexual deviant, longing for the pines, giving us the hand jobs we always wanted; AAND OH HE WANTED THE PAIN but the pain was hidden in the river encased in a golden ring and the Hobbit thing fished it out, and we know what its gots in its pockets, don't we my precious? STRIKE DOWN THE RIDERS OF ROHAN AND BURN THE BRIDGES OF MORIA FOR IT IS I, GANDALF THE WHITE, RISEN FROM THE DEAD LIKE A CHRIST ON THE THIRD DAY. LIKE CHRIST HIMSELF, I AM CHANGED; NO LONGER ARE MY ROBES GREY. I AM THE PENULTIMATE POWER. THERE IS BUT one HIGHER THAN I. THAT FLESH MAN THEY CALLED KOBEK. HIDDEN IN THE ENCYSTED LIFE OF HIS OWN SELF ONE RING TO BIND HI MATT A.K.A. STYXXXXX, I THOUGHT I'D PUT A SHOUT OUT RIGHT HERE, A SHOUT OUT ABOUT dragonlance. Fucking Raistlin Darfler, always changing her robes and going EVIL. yeah. Getting upset when I storm the closet and make her have CHAOTIC EVIL sex. It used to be NEUTRAL CHAOTIC, but now, hell, now it's CHAOTIC EVIL. FIND THE ORBSSSS THE ORBBSSS THE ORBBSSSS AND THE FUCKIN' LANCES hahahha Oberlin, the LORD OF HELMSDEEP hahaha or just a college in Ohio? ?!/1?! IS THIS DESIRE OR AM I JUST LOST IN THE HEART? It's a clogged heart full of death and despair... the egyptian children are here... They steal a camera from an american tourist... I look at him with a mixture of pity and loathing; I don't wish such a thing to fall on him, but then I think it's his own fault for being so careless. I see his face and it is a smear of hurt and pain, and I understand he is feeling, and my loathing fades away, now I only have pity. I offer him my camera but he rejects it. He tells me the camera was a present from his mother. I know immediately he secretly was in love with her. Nothing I do can heal this wound. He is as sedentary as the Chinese, the Chinois, who said to me, as I walked along the Cliffs of Moher, "It's so beautiful." I almost died that day. The Chinois would have been the last to see me alive. I saved myself at the last moment. Extending my hands behind me and catching my body as it went over the rocks. I was dead but then I was not. We came here for you once, when you died. But this wasn't here and that wasn't you. word up to the manthing. Well, golly gosh geee, Sarge, it sure has been a long time since I done wrote something 'bout yonder TELETYPE. "Ah, so it has." Should I drop and give you twenty? "How about you just give me some of that ol' black magic?" You want I should write me another teletype story? "Please do, I long for it. I long for it so. I need it like a junkie needs junk." That bad, huh, sarge? "Yes, private, yes." Well, guess I can't deny my C.O. anything. "NOT UNDER THE MILITARY CODE OF CONDUCT." Aren't there any exceptions? "No." TELETYPE, REINCARNATE! Rise from your grave! But I can not bring back an exhausted idea. All of his life force is gone. Let me put the carcass in the orgone accumulator and see what will come of it. In you go, into the oven, into the accumulator, there fatty, there... Do not cry... soon you will be ALIVE! ____ | .. | - HELLO I AM MICROSOFT BOB WELCOME TO YOUR NEW HOME, THE NINTH | \/ | CIRCLE OF HELL. PLEASE CLICK ON BRUTUS GRINDING IN SATAN'S ---- JAWS TO KNOW YOUR PITIFUL FATE. IGNORE THE SCREAMS OF JUDAS, SOON THEY WILL BE AS SOOTHING MUSIC TO YOUR EARS. SOOTHING LIKE A STICK OF BUTTER IN MARIA SCHNEIDER'S ASS. SOOTHING LIKE ON ORANGE JULIUS. EAT THE BANNANA, YOU SICK FUCKING ANIMAL. DO YOU THINK LIFE IS EASY FOR ANYONE? DO YOU THINK THE FACT YOU ARE MISERABLE ENTITLES YOU TO WHINE ANYMORE THAN ANYONE ELSE? THE SECRET TO THEIR LIVES IS S-E-(x)! MISERABLE WORLD, I CURSE THEE! I CURSE ALL OF THEE AT THE GRANGE AND ALL OF THEE AT WUTHERING HEIGHTS WHO HAVE TAKEN MY DEAR CATHERINE FROM ME! I CURSE HER TO HAUNT ME UNTIL MY DEATH! I CURSE I CURSE I CURSE! AH CATHERINE WHEN WILL YOU RETURN TO ME? SHALL I JOIN YOU IN DEATH AS A GHOST? HOW THE CHILDREN REMIND ME OF YOU... I SEE YOU IN CATHY AND I SEE YOU IN HARETON... PLEASE COME TO ME, DEAR CATHERINE, IT IS MICROSOFT BOB, WHO IS AS MUCH YOU AS HE IS HIMSELF, AND I CALL YOU FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE... Speaking of calling people from behind the grave, let me see how the orgones are accumulating around the corpse of teletype. shall he be re-animated? Shall I play herbert west? I shall! I look into the accumulator, I see the signs of life stirring, but still, teletype is not alive... The concept has been beaten and beaten and beaten over and over again like Stephanie Seymor... It will require more time in the orgone accumulator... Soon, soon he will rise from his grave... Extract from Mina Harker's Journal June 9th. I still have no word from my dear Jonathan. I hope that he is fairing well in Transylvania, and will write soon. Sweet Lucy has not yet given up her sleep walking. Only last night I had to prevent her from perambulating to our favorite sitting spot. I looked at her face and I saw that she was totally in sleep. The poor thing was completely unaware of what she was doing! I locked the doors and windows to our room and put her back in bed. I dare not tell her mother, for fear it will worsen the woman. She already has confessed to me that her time in this world is brief, and I would not be the one whose tongue sent her spiraling into God's arms, blessed though they be. Nothing new to report otherwise. I do hope Jonathan will write soon! drew's logic was that once you started dating, you just kind of kissed a lot and talked about kissing, or something i wrote t-files while i was with drew before the boys started trying to get all up in your shit hahhaha that sounds accurate, phil. First we must understand that the NOSFERATU, the vampyr, in the doorway shining so bright is FOREMOST a creature of the NIGHT! He is a killer! He is to KILL as we are to whine! It is the very essence of his nature! Everybody knows, everyboy know, you only live a day, but it's brilliant anyway.... It's brilliant anyway... ANYWAY, I'm not saying that when I step up the mike I'm the best, just that I'm brilliant. Fuck, if you could see my cat you'd caterwaul like Robert Plant... I can't stop talking about love! The secrets of their lives is S-E-f(x)! I saw you walk between all the people out making the scene... Ooooooooooh don't go to far, stay who you are... I'm lost in that sea of sorrowful sundays, there is a funeral procession, in the coffin is the body of Edgar Poe, he looks at me as if it was I who killed him. Perhaps it was. I am in Washington Square park, there is heroin in my body, I hallucinate the ghosts of those buried beneath me and those who were hung on these trees; the lights seem as though lit by gas. What is this world imposed over me? I'm on a stage... atheists and christians debating... I point out something ridiculous in the athiests' reasoning, I rush the stage, I return to my seat, a priest turns to me and says "GOOD JOB". I am revolted by his God. By his Christ. The only king left is King Kobek and he is busy mentally undressing Fay Wray Darfler, peeling her clothes like a banana... You're no good, you're no good, can't you tell that it's well understood? Cntrl-G is how I get my friends' attention. Other people rely on good characters and actually interesting personalities. I just make computers beep. PITY ME FOR I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF THE WORD PITEOUS... I'm an urchin lost in Oxford in 1350, the plague has hit, and it's the little ice age. Won't you do something to save me? Can anyone save me???? I CAN'T SAVE YOUUUUUuu I CAN BARELY SAVE MYSELF... Ah god, I am suffering under Caitlin's mp3 collection once more! It's burned into my drug filled brain; forever and a day, all 22 songs will haunt me... FOREVER AND A DAY! I can not name them all. All of them are unnameable... SWOOSH by Dan Bern... Some crap by Ani DiFranco... some guilty pleasure by Joan Osbourne... MEN WITH HATS and their perennial 80s hit... THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS with "BIRD HOUSE IN YOUR SOUL" ABOUT 5 SONGS BY STABBING WESTWARD, like Chapter 12, in which it /is/ revealed that I CAN'T SAVE YOU I CAN'T EVEN SAVE MYSELF... Pavement's "SPIT ON A STRANGER"... oh god, deliver me from those with crappy taste... _______________________________________ | INSIDE THIS BOX YOU WILL FIND LOVE | | INSIDE THIS BOX YOUR GIRL WILL NOT | | DUMP YOU INSIDE THIS BOX I LOVE AND | | ACCEPT YOU INSIDE THIS BOX YOUR FLAWS | | ARE ASSETS INSIDE THIS BOX NO ONE IS | | BETTER THAN YOU INSIDE THIS BOX YOU | | DON'T NEED TO BE A GIRL AND ALL GIRL | | SELF LOATHING AND SELF HATRED DOES | | NOT EXIST INSIDE THIS BOX YOU DON'T | | HAVE TO ABUSE YOURSELF OR DATE PEOPLE | | YOU HATE INSIDE THIS BOX IS TRUE LOVE | |_______________________________________| But you don't live inside /this/ box. You live in the other one. Sweet little lady, don't you get crazy Bring it back home to me Woman little standing, dreaming to forget him bring it back home to me When? Why wonder? Brown-eyed stunner Come on, bring it back home to me Kiss a littlen dozen, fishing for your lover, won't you bring it back home to me? She looks like heroin, she kills the pain Call it what you want to call it, call it danger honey, you said, "gimme that nicotine" Never wanna hold you, never wanna scold you, I bet she's taking away from me Never will command you or ever reprimand you, when you bring it back home to me Can't take candy from a baby, when your baby gives it up for free She just puts around being lazy, but still she brings her lovin' to me Don't need nothing to save me, save for a piece of your luxury Lock the door, but you'll never cage me, I'll tell you just how it's gonna be I call your lover in the morning, when you have your cup of tea You never give me your warning, so you better get ready for me Guess who's coming over, oh you think that's such a surprise why can't you just write what you feeL? Why such labrythineeeee ways? AYS AYS AYS DAYS HAYS KILLS YES MURDER MOST FOUL BALL NO CARLTON FISK, IT'S A HOME RUN I SAW IT BOUNCE OFF THE POLE YES YES RED SOX WIN GAME SIX BUT THEY LOSE GAME SEVEN; EVERY TIME SINCE 1918; SUFFER BOSTON, sUFFRE RHODE ISLAND SUFFER FANDOM A brief biographical sketch of the one known as Jarett Kobek, gentleman, explorer, amateur scientist, deep space probe, vampire, umpire, statesman, 21st chromosone triplet, lover, beloved, burned, bored, tarred and feathered Born in Warwick, Rhode Island on February 7th, 1978, during the GREAT BLIZZARD. His mother required the national guard to dig her out of her brother's house. Got to the hospital, dropped the kid. And so it came to pass that Jarett was born and delivered in this modern world. and so it came to pass that you bought an illusion and put it on the wall Teletype? Teletype? Can you hear me? I believe he is starting to stir, but still he is not strong with the orgone, that mythical power through which all life is transmitted. The orgone! The orgone! Ah god, the orgone! They burned you alive for it, Wilhem, but we shall overcome and teletype SHALL live again. the day I broke up with my boyfriend, by little Jenn, Age 13 My boyfriend Jim and I broke up after a few months of going out. It was very sad. He is a straight A student and I am a straight A student and we both were attracted to each other as soon as our eyes met in AP English. I have known Jim for a long time but I did not realize I liked him in that special way until our eyes met in AP English. Then I began to start feeling for him. Our time together sure was rough. It is hard to maintain a relationship with the pressures of being smart students. Smart students take difficult courses with a lot of homework. The honors classes can take it out of you. Life is hard. Still, we managed to see each other often, and sometimes we would have parties at Jim's house for us and the other honors students. Jim's dad is the super intendant of schools and he is a good guy. Sometimes during the parties Jim and I would go into the special closest where the action would get hot and heavy. I never took off any of my clothes and neither did he, but they were very intense experiences unlike anything I have ever felt. I did not think about sex and neither did Jim but maybe if things had gone on longer we would have had it. I am curious about sex. None of my friends have had it but I am curious about it. It seems like it could be a great thing. Jim and I broke up last week after going for 2 months. It was very sad. I don't remember who broke up with who, but in the end, we were not together. Life is a difficult thing in many situations. I am glad I did not take off any of my clothes. I hope Jim didn't break up with me because I am ugly. I hope he didn't break up with me because I didn't take off any of my clothes. I hope he didn't break up with me to date Natalie. TARA STEVENSON, YOU STUPID RITA HAYWORTH IN _GILDA_ LOOKIN' DEGENERATE SINGER FOR RHODE ISLAND BAND MIXLPLYX, IT'S YOUR TIME TO SHINE; WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME SOMETHING DOOOOOOOOPE? "Sam, he gave me orgasm," she said. Now, I like porn as much as the next guy, but shit, there isn't anything like INTERRACIAL porn. Boy, when I seem some big black stud just pounding his manthing away into a white bitch's pussie, boy, well, I don think I've ever come so hard. Those guys got dicks like TREE TRUNKS and they're planting them in the forest CAUCASIA. Yeah, they're taking revenge NAT TURNER style out on the bitches' cunts, they're givin' them the what for and the whodunnit! YEAH! Ain't nothing like seeing a spade pork a white girl. TRI ANGULATION OF FIRE: ________ | | | | | | | | | | ___ / \ | | _|___|_ / \ -------- ( ) ( ) / \ (TEXAS BOOK (MOTORCADE) (GRASSY KNOLL) DEPOSITORY) ( ) --\ /-- / \ / 8 \ __/ \__ (THIRD GUN-MAN DOWN THE STREET) Yes, See? One man firing a load at Jackie Kennedy's warm white bitch cunt wouldn't do shit, which is why Lee "Nigger Dick" Harvery Oswald was not the lone wanker that day. Sure, he was angled perfectly to spatter his nigger cum on the Kennedys, and in particular, Jackie's sweet tasting white bitch pussy, but to ensure J. Edgar Hoover's homo-erotic fantasy of seeing three black studs with 18" dicks jerking it onto the first lady's pussy, two other men were installed. That way her white girl tang could not avoid the cum. She would get it INSIDE and on the outside, and with luck become pregnant with a spade baby; then, after she had the obvious abortion, the medical documents would be placed inside one of the FBI's famous "suicide file" and sent to JFK & Jackie in the event they ever tried to take on the FBI's authority, and specifically that of famed transvestite and homosexual, J. Edgar Hoover. The other two gunmen are not known, but are rumored to be Nigger Lips McSpade, and Strokin' Donkey Dong Jones. tribute to dean the cat: ecstasy in onyx meow. meow. meow. FOOD? meow. meow. PET ME. meow. meow. meow. PULL THE STRING. meow. meow. PULL THE STRING. meow meow. FOOD? meow. PET ME. meow meow meowowwwwwwooooowwwww. PET ME. TOUCH ME. FEEL ME.HEAR ME. sEE ME. meow. the world the end will day and behold, I did eat the book, and it was bitter in my belly. what auto-erotic cannibalistic sexual asphyication is this? [1 : dylan] i don't even know what the lie is. [1 : dylan] i've hidden it so deeply. [1 : dylan] or convinced myself so well of.. [1 : dylan] or something.. [1 : dWi] well, maybe you could use some help to get down in there! [1 : dWi] deep stuff is a real pain in the ass [1 : dWi] cause there's no-one in yr life you can bounce it off of [1 : dWi] because they have their own perception of you, and you don't want them to think you're crazy, etc. [1 : dWi] which is what shrinks are for! [1 : dylan] great. [1 : dylan] the fucking ethernet cable for my laptop is fucked. [1 : dWi] you can figure this stuff out [1 : dylan] so i cannot get that t-file on it. [1 : dylan] i'm going to cry. [1 : dWi] go ahead and cry.. =) you'll probably feel better [1 : dylan] i can't. [1 : dylan] every time i almost do, i don't. [1 : dWi] yeah, I was that way for a while [1 : dWi] that gets better too [1 : dWi] it has to do with release mechanism [1 : dWi] try screaming [1 : dWi] seriously go on, crawl out your window! You know that I need you to. I guess I should talk a little bit about Bob Dylan and what he means to me. Well, Bob Dylan, above all else, was a great bullshit artist. And I think that's what I find most profound in his early work. The enormous levels of bullshit and jokes and humor. It's FUNNY, you know? Well, except for TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGING, which is the only really bad album from the 60s. A prefiguring of things to come. I mean, sure, he could be profound and unbelievably poetic, but at heart, all Bob Dylan ever wanted to be was a funny hillbilly singing songs about going down to the well and eating beneath the mill and fishing and women cooking up shortening bread. And that's what bob dylan means to me. [1 : dWi] I'm serious [1 : dWi] get your jacket [1 : dylan] and some nice fuzzy slippers. [1 : dWi] go into the bathroom [1 : dWi] bunch it up around your mouth [1 : dWi] and scream till you don't feel like screaming anymore. [1 : ldsa] > YOUR PAWN BROKER ROARED AND AH SO SO DID THE LAND LORD [1 : dylan] i don't have the energy to scream. [1 : ldsa] YOUR PAWN BROKER ROARED AND AH SO SO DID THE LAND LORD [1 : dWi] dylan : that's the depression tricking you [1 : dylan] i cannot [1 : dWi] depression makes it feel like you don't have the energy to do anything [1 : dWi] but you're just so depressed [1 : dWi] cause stuff is just weighing super heavy on yr heart [1 : dylan] like, i have systematically sabatoged my entire life. [1 : dylan] over the last year. [1 : dylan] everything that was dear to me. [1 : dylan] i have distanced myself from. and yes, you, you just sit around and ask for ashtrays, can't you reach? I have tried to write words into a world. I may have failed. May the gods forgive me. May the ones I love forgive me. It was enough to create the entire world in a single microcosmic sentence, but I am a failure, and I can not even recreate her heart, so it will take me a longer time, a longer time, and larger amount of space to REMAKE life into words. Why are your fingers going up my sleeve? Can you ever forgive what I'm attempting? Will any ever see it? How many can traverse the way down here? I don't know... YOU KNOW IF YOU DIDN'T WANT TO BE WITH ME, YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO STAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY well it's true I can't recall San Francisco at all I can't even remember EL PASO, HOOOOONEEEYYYYYYY fair you well boys fair you well, I'm going back to Baltimore. I got more panchitos than a mexican; I got slick rivers like sex lives; I stab bootlegging record executives like JAY ZEE! I slash tires like a j.d. I break beats on the camel's hump. I SAW YOU GO BETWEEN ALL THE PEOPLE OUT MAKING THE SCENE! break break your bones your heart it can all be broken with the twist of bone or the twist of a word. Everything you were is destroyed and pulled down like the temple in a.d. 70, everything you ever knew is GONE. All the people you ever loved are dead, all the friends you ever had are missing. What can you do? The people around you are shades from Hell, trying to drink the blood of a lamb, and when they do finally talk to you, they're hollow shells of humanity; How did you get here? How did you end up in this horrible fucking place? Where is there so much Danzig on the stereo? Could it be any worse? Could you be stuck in some texas border town looking down the sight of a gun at the greenbacks crossing over? Imagining picking them off, one by one, the women and children, their backs exploding in a fading glory of gore, and you'd be the arbitrator of life and death, for that slight moment you could be a God, but what of? Cheap trinkets and token emotions. You've given into your optimus prime evil side; now your autobot matrix is korupt and black; you actually bought into the lie everyone's always been telling you: That there is substance and there is meaning in the world. You believe it so much; there's gotta be a purpose; and then, when you look at your own life and can not help but feel the barren emptiness of the moors, you die a horrible little death inside. There's no substance here and there's no meaning here. SO YOU GIVE IN YOU SORRY SON A BITCH. YOU GIVE IN! And then your whole life became a menagerie of emotional nonsense, and you actually start to find it acceptable to sit around being miserable and depressed. You drink your depression like water from a glass. MMMMM, it's good; and then you let it motivate you and you start existing FROM IT; It becomes the center and the driving force in the lack of meaning and the removal of substance... Sucker. A cold hard man of science brings me a glass of methadone, "Drink of this and live forever," he tells me. What can I do but oblige? Oh yeah, let me give you some of that real life primordial realism SHIT. Let me give you some of that nicker-bocker nigger-kicking REAL LIFE In your face, gonna make you gag till you puke, bitch slipping, duck training, baby baby tregar inducing, stuff you never wanted to see, pastiche writing, Did you know I cry? I do. Not an absurd amount, but enough to substantially qualify me as someone who does, indeed, cry. That's as far as I'm going tonight. I cry. The end. Actually, my tears have overcome my intent; I'm not going to write you no primordial realism today, no sir, not I. I've given that shit up. It's bad for the soul and it's bad for other peoples' hearts. I'm not out to hurt anything anymore. Now I just want to flow like the river and Sam Cooke's jive. It's very Zen, except I don't know anything about Zen, so I can't even come close to be qualifying what is and what is not Zen. AND ISN'T THAT THE ULTIMATE STATE OF ZEN? I hear something from the orgone accumulator, I hear the cooking sounds of frying synapses: It speaks: tourists probably wouldn't take well to my brand of depravity but ah That is all it says for now. still it is dormant! Will my lovely teletype and meenk file never come to life? WILL IT NEVER LIVE? GOD, WILL IT NEVER LIVE? SING ME THE EPIC SLAVE SONG, GLENN DANZIG, SING ME THAT SPIRITUAL CALLED: "LONG WAY BACK FROM HELL": Sold into slavery down in New Orleans Goddess Of the bayou light Black dog's head on the killing bed Severed And left to bleed There on fire In the corner of the world There in misery There on fire In the corner of the world Left for God to see Do you want to take a life Do you want to cross that line Cause it's a long way back from Hell And you don't want to go with me Poison father of the human race God Of the tainted blood Malevolence Sneaking up the spine of the world Ready for the bastard son There on fire In the veins of man There in misery There on fire In the veins of man Left for to see Do you want to take a life Do you want to cross that line Cause it's a long way back from Hell And you don't want to go with me See the three alarm fire, see the dog heat. SHE LICK HER LIPS WITH A PASSION. in the third degree. Sometimes I cry. Yes, I cry, not a lot, but enough to qualify me as someone who does, in fact, cry. Yes, sometimes I weep, not a lot, but enough to qualify me as someone who does, in fact, weep bloody tears. Salty with the blood of the undead. I never wanna stand ya or ever reprimand ya. Dead waters rise higher than your mind! Kreid is a feather in your cap. WORD WORD WORD PLAY IS NOT TANTAMOUNT TO FOREPLAY BUT MY GOD IF TELLING GIRLS YOU WANTED TO SLEEP WITH THEM SOMEHOW GOT YOU TO ACTUALLY SLEEP WITH THEM I'D BE JOINING DON JUAN IN HELL AIN'T I JARETT "GIVE 'EM A SPEECH FIRST" KOBEK? HELL YEAH "OH BABY, YOU KNOW, I BEEN SEEING YOU 'ROUND WE BEEN SPENDING A LOT OF TIME TOGETHER BUT UH I DON'T WANNA BE ONE OF THEM GUYS THAT JUST SLOBBERS ALL OVER YOU I RESPECT YOU TOO MUCH BABY SO I WAS HOPING THAT MAYBE WE COULD TAKE OUR FRIENDSHIP TO THE NEXT LEVEL BABY AND GET DOWN" AND THEN OF COURSE, THE SIXTH MOVEMENT BRINGS RETURN: "OH JARETT I CAN'T DO THAT WITH >YOU Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1999 10:30:22 EDT Subject: Re: Let Old acquaintance be forgot To: jwk208@is8.nyu.edu Hello Jarett, Right. I don't mean to be defensive or whatever right off, but instead of feeling awkward yourself writing an introductory email, you decided to make me feel incredibly awkward by writing a love letter for all of hoe to read? That was definitely not a favorable first impression. However, a reliable source told me that it was probably not your intention to make me uncomfortable and that you're a nice person, so I'm giving you another chance. What do I do? Well I live in New Jersey, year round. In the summer I'm in north Jersey, right outside NYC, and the rest of the year I go to Rutgers in New Brunswick. I work in a music store, and I'm a DJ on the radio. I'm really really into music, especially English stuff and stuff from the 80s. Right now I'm off writing, because I just don't have any subject matter. What I have been working on recently, with a lot of breaks, is a dialogue. My absolute favorite authors are Stephen Fry, David Sedaris, and Oscar Wilde, because they all share my favorite characteristic in a writer: good, old-fashioned wit. I'm a psychology major. I'm into the biological/chemical aspects of it, not that bullshit therapy stuff. I am an incredible judge of character too, if I do say so myself. I do not usually associate with other writers or DJs, because I find most to be incredibly pseudo-intellectual. I'm more impressed with a good person than a "smart" person. I really don't care how much someone knows about some obscure artist or how random they can be. Anyway, I'm still not exactly thrilled about how you chose to get in touch with me. It'll take me a while to stop feeling uneasy. Miriam Return-Path: Date: Fri, 9 Jul 1999 22:38:27 EDT Subject: Re: Let Old acquaintance be forgot To: jwk208@is8.nyu.edu Hi there. I'm glad you understand how I feel, I'm kinda going through a rough patch at this point in my life. Everything has been freaking me out lately, I'm really on edge. I got a letter last night from some random whose AOL screen name is similar to mine, telling me off for being unoriginal. Meanwhile, her name was spelled LiKe ThiS. Res Ipsa Loquitor, eh? I'm also a Latin geek. I've had it in high school and 2 semesters in college. My minor is Classics, which is pretty much ancient Greek and Roman history along with some ancient languages. Latin is my ancient language of choice. It's fun! Either that or I'm a huge geek, my bet is on the latter. :) I forgot to mention one of my favorite authors in my last letter. Probably cos he hasn't done anything recently, but I love Tom Robbins. He's as close to random stuff as I get. Random as in bordering on incoherence. As for pseudo-intellectualism, generally the attitude of "I am so smart and the world must know it, plus I have no sense of humor about myself" is the attitude that gets to me. I have encountered way too many people with no ability to make fun of themselves. Basically, I appreciate humility. I have been told that I am "apologetic" of my "intellect," and I never let on about how much I know about what. I don't mean to sound braggy (we can create our own words, can't we? :)), it's just what someone said to me. Anyway, that's all for this evening's babbling. Catch you later... Miriam Return-Path: Delivered-To: redirect-jarett@tregar.com Date: Sun, 25 Jul 1999 01:36:10 EDT Subject: searching the city for sci-fi wasabi To: jarett@tregar.com My dearest not-so-secret admirer, Oftimes I wonder where you have gone, with whom and why. My letter to you had gone unanswered, and I believed our correspondence to be at an end. I thought you no longer were interested in carrying on with me, the atmosphere in the channel that night we spoke was rather, as it were, uncool, man. It had nothing to do with you, you were barely there that night, disappointingly. I genuinely do find you to be quite interesting, but please understand my (Groucho) Marxist stance on groups of people. Call me antisocial and the like, but there's always one person in the group that will either vex me or get my dander up. Another lame excuse of mine is that I just moved, and another would be my over-involvement in my job as a purveyor of pretentiousness at a local record store. Anyway, I just want to reassure you that I do want to maintain contact with you, but this is a two way street you know. As much as I enjoy pontification, it's dead boring to everyone else. Speaking of which, have you seen my poor excuse for a webpage? It's http://members.tripod.com/~Grlfrmars... sign my guestbook! (nag nag nag) By the way, when do you go back to New York? We could possibly do something silly like go to the Met if you're interested. I love that place. Well I must get back to the all-consuming chore of getting the damned fly out of my room. I've always wanted a pet, but this was not what I had in mind. Write back soon. :) I will leave you with some words of wisdom (from a reggae song I heard at work) which apply to your religious inquiries: "Shake that booty that Jesus gave you." Wishing you much shaking of booty, Miriam Return-Path: Delivered-To: redirect-jarett@tregar.com Date: Mon, 26 Jul 1999 12:48:33 EDT Subject: yes, well, definitely. indeed. To: jarett@tregar.com Jarett, Hi there. I'm writing to you again, because I'm lonely and trapped in my house. Well I'm not trapped, I can go for a walk, but there's nowhere to walk to, and at this point, I need a destination. I was upset that you weren't in the channel last night while I was there, I do want to talk to you in a non-email environment. God I wish my car had brakes. I'd be cruisin' the mean streets of Passaic in my pimp-mobile (also known as the Black Stallion) shoutin out to all the fly honeys and mah peeps, yo. But alack, if I attempted such an outing at this point, it would be ideal until I tried to stop. I can see the headlines now. Da Phat Car Gets Busted Up. Fly Honeys Disappointed. OK that's enough rambling for me. You best be writin' to me soon, yo. I must say that you intrigue me. Peace out, cub scout Miriam America's Most Wanted Capture #464: Girl From Mars! Due to the relentless crusading of police officials, and to the thousands of viewers who called to give us their tips, the suspect known as Girl From Mars has been apprehended. Let this be a warning to criminals in the future: If you're slightly pretentious and artsy, all it takes is someone with a modicum of writing skill and a base general knowledge of literature to bait the trap. And then you get snared. And then you're IN JAIL, the prison of love, but Jean Genet is neither warden NOR prisoner. Love, Christina OH DARLING, YOU KNOW YOU TOUCH ME AT THE BOTTOM OF MY SOUL AND YOU KNOW AS I WALK ALONG THROUGH THIS WORLD THAT I KNOW I'M THE DUKE, THE DUKE OF EARL OH CAITLIN, WON'T YOU BE MY DUCHESS? MY DUCHESS OF EARL? AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII KNOW I'M GONNA LOVE YOU OH OH COME ON LET ME HOLD YOU DARLING CUZ I'M THE DUKE OF EARL OH YEAH YEAH YH YEAH AND WHEN I HOLD YOU YOU'LL BE MY DUCHESS MY DUCHESS OF EARL AS I WALK THROUGH MY DUKEDOM AND THE PARADISE WE WILL SHARE YES UH IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII KNOW I'M GONNA LOVE YOU OH OH NOTHING CAN STOP ME NOW CUZ I'M THE DUKE OF EARL AI YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH WHOOOO OOOOO OOOO OOOOOO OOOO AH AH AH OOOOOO O O OOOO OOOOO OOOO THE DUKE OF EARL WELL UH IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII KNOW I'M GONNA LOVE YOU OH OH NOTHING CAN STOP ME NOW CUZ I'M THE DUKE OF EARL YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH WHOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOO I WONDER WONDER WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME OH WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE I GOT TO KNOW THE ANSWER WAS IT SOMEONE FROM ABOVE? I WONDER WONDER WONDER WONDER WHO WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE? I LOVE LOVE YOU DARLING BABY YOU KNOW I DO BUT I GOT TO SEE THIS BOOK OF LOVE TO FIND OUT WHAT IS TRUE I WONDER WONDER WONDER WONDER OH WHO WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE CHAPTER ONE SAYS YOU LOVE HER LOVE HER WILL ALL YOUR HEART CHAPTER TWO YOU TELL HER YOU NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER GONNA PART IN CHAPTER THREE REMEMBER THE MEANING OF ROMANCE IN CHAPTER FOUR YOU BREAK UP BUT YOU GIVE HER ONE MORE CHANCE The Symposium Lite, by Plato, Jr. Ah, greetings Xenon! I see you are on your way to the and that is what love is. Fuck me fickle, Alcibiates. THE END In conversation, I speak just like a Baroness, my voice hoarse with lust for Destro. I will buy him turtle wax and polish his golden head like a shoe-shine negro. "DRIVING TO THE PACIFIC OH SHIT I CAN'T DRIVE I'LL JUST GO TO BEN'S HOUSE INSTEAD" by tasha abner Did you know I cry? I do. Not an absurd amount, but enough to substantially qualify me as someone who does, indeed, cry. That's as far as I'm going tonight. I cry. The end. "We are the sons of no one" by murmur he didn't know what she looked like or even if she was vaguely human but it didn't matter because he was sad and pathetic and hell she was the possessor of a cunt, perhaps not the best cunt, but a cunt all the same. he did not know from using his computer to talk to her, well several computers really, he didn't know from using his computer to talk to her if her cunt would stink or if it would smell like the morning dew settling on roses, but he sorely hoped it would be the latter option. Just in case, he bought some pussy cleaning fluid. If her pussy stank he planned to tell her it "turned him on" to apply the cleaning fluid to a girl's "pussy". she was flying in on wednesday. it was her spring break and he wanted to get away from home. she would come to him with her cunt that he did not know the scent of. he wasn't really sure what she got the god I can't go on any more. this third person narrative, it's so fake! How can I pretend that this file isn't about me? God, Lish, baby, honey doll, I love you, and we're the bastard sons of no one, oh god baby, won't you come back to me soon, please baby? I want to tattoo and pierce you and photograph you and put it all the fucking way up in FLESH MUTATE magazine and oh baby, I want you to make me dolls of yourself, please lish, honey? Please? I can't tell the girls from the boys anymore, lish, not without that guiding hand... Oh god, my crank, my sweet sweet crank... really, he'd already made his mind up that she was extra-special and was everything he's always hoped for in a girl. she said the same about him, too. it would take calamity to strike things down. but how can you not worry about calamity? put all your eggs in a basket like this and BOOM! something not-so-good is liable to happen. he knew better. i mean, hell, he might NOT find her attractive at all. it wasn't that unreasonable, was it? WAS IT? OH GOD NO IT WAS NOT BUT IN HER I DID FIND THE SWEET LOVE CRANK LISH NEED THAT I ALWAYS HAD OH GOD LISH LISH LISH LISH I CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE OH NO NONO NO I CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE AND I AS LOOK AROUND MY DUKEDOM I JUST WANT TO FUCK YOU LISH HERE ON THE BUS WE WILL SUCK FACE LIKE SICK DISGUSTING ANIMALS DEGENERATE AND FILTHY WILL YOU EAT MY BANANA, YOU SICK FUCKING ANIMAL? he to this day doesn't remember the next few moments in very particular detail. all he knows is that after some hand fidgeting, some hand jockeying, a couple glances at each other, he was surprised to find that they were kissing, kissing on the bus. she'd said "kiss me on the bus" before. they both knew that that was an old song, even though they weren't sure who by. YOU CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE YOU CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE YOU CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE YOU CAN'T TELL THE GIRLS FROM THE BOYS ANYMORE OH NO NO NO DEAD JOE "she paused in her monologue then, and looked across the field to a small grove. she reached to her face and moved her finger lightly among her bottom lip, a FUCKING DERR DERR DERRR HUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUH" kried, have you ever seen my picture? (i am guessing so :) no it's me GOD THIS IS SO FUCKING GODAWFUL HAhahahahhahaha BULLS ON PARADE yeah aidz, i'm female obviously. Why do you put in IRC logs to your files? I don't know but I gotta do it, it's a compulsion like cockroaches covering my body, gotta do what I gotta do so I do it and you all spew it. Spew. Dead waters rise high than my mind. I hate all of you. Every last one of you. But you still read on, regardless of my hate, regardless of the burning fury and loathing that I have. Every friend I ever had is gone. Sometimes I cry. I'm so lonely cuz I am got no homely women. Let's just... So you're all alone once again, and you know that tomorrow's gonna be the same as it was today, and you can't pretend like you're who you weren't. it'll eat you up inside like a television but you can't say no and you can't hide and you have to do it and you don't even seem particularly interested in the sex anymore, but still, you'll fuck until your thighs bleed, because you're a miserable cretin, a wretch on the face of the earth. Yeah disappointment's always there for me, disappointment's my best friend, I hide beneath the apple tree, and all the apples fall on me. Gonna give my heart to the pigs to roll on, and they're gonna cool their sweatless bodies on my sorrow, yeah, it's like water in the dirt, it makes some killer mud, oh shit, your daddy's full of termites. Bleeding women always follow me. it was and I would prefer not to recall it was during beauty's decline. Today in paris the women are stained with blood. Sometime I'll have to edjumacate you. I live in a church where I sleep with voodoo dolls and I won't give up the search for the ghosts in the halls I wear sandals in the snow and a smile that won't wash away I wonder if I can look out the window without my shadow getting in the way I'm so beautiful with an edge and a charm I'm so careful when you're in my arms.... I woke up screaming aloud a prayer to my secret God I feed off your fears and hold back my tears Oh I give you a tantrum and know-it-all grin just when you need one When the evening is thin I'm a beautiful, a beautiful fucked up man I'm setting up my razor wire shrine "oooh little darling" by Quarex, the Manthing I know a girl I know a girl I knew a girl cuz know she don't wanna know me cuz I tried to kiss her and my tongue is like a hunk of kryptonite going up super-man's asshole, except his asshole is her mouth and now we don't kiss no more. Yeah so I went on a date with this girl, and hell yeah, she was hot, and I was like giving her my Frank Sinatra eyes, but she wasn't having any love from ol' Drew HUNT, no, she was just giving me hate. I tried to kiss her and she threw water on me and then and made out with a dog named Spot. Then the dog pissed on her and threw her down a flight of stairs and when I tried to help her up she ran to spot and forgave him. She didn't even look at me, to see it was me who helped her up. Why are girls so dumb? Let me tell you about this other girl. well, her ass was sweet and I loved her from the moment I saw her, so I went up to her, and I said, "If you come with me I'll take you to Mars and I'll give you everything you ever wanted." Then she spit on me and took up with a hooligan who pissed on her and threw her down a flight of stairs and when I tried to help her up she ran to the hooligan and forgave him. She didn't even look at me, to see it was me who helped her up. I'm not mad, though, because I just think of some Guns N Roses lyrics that were etched in my brain so many years ago, and this is what I'm going to say to her, and to all the girls, and to my future wife and soul mate someday, and she's gonna know how true it is: I see you standin' Standin' on your own It's such a lonely place for you For you to be If you need a shoulder Or if you need a friend I'll be here standing Until the bitter end No one needs the sorrow No one needs the pain I hate to see you Walking out there Out in the rain So don't chastise me Or think I, I mean you harm Of those that take you Leave you strung out Much too far Baby-yeah Don't ever leave me Say you'll always be there All I ever wanted Was for you To know that I care So sweetheart, wherever you are, I love you even though I don't know you, and sleep well, and think of the time we'll be together, in the not too distant ("I Hope!") future. Our minds and bodies melding together like the ultimate post-erotic star trek experience. I love you, dear. If I knew how to parody that unrelated style of file, I'd do it, but I don't, so I'd just like to use this space to once again apologize for making Unrelated a member of HOE. He's a piece of shit. And he sucks, and it's really sad he isn't dead. When I read that email I got a major erection, so I compulsively masturbated, and then I looked up in my mailbox, and there was mail from phairgirl telling me he wasn't dead, and my post-mortem orgasm was actually a pre-mortem orgasm and that just soured the flavor of my own semen to wild grape rather than orange julius. HAHAHAHAH WHAT YOU MOTHERFUCKERS HAVE INVITED IS THE CRAZIEST NIGGA THAT HAS EVER BEEN INVENTED I WANT TO SEE SOME BLOOD ON THE MOTHER FUCKING DANCE FLOOR i want to >SEE< some >BLOOD< on the motherfuckign DANCE FLOOR I WANNA see SOME blood ON the MOTHERFUCKING dance FLOOR i wanna see some BLOOD on the mnotherfuckign i wanna see soem blooD on the mother i anwnwan see some bloord0krfjijsfjd on the mothetrufk ujafuabnwanjusgrj sese sometbl00d0 njhamnefmotherufkernfhhfeuaeufea see soem bm00dl on the motherufkeirng some bseeing slf0b00dokwff mftoth sieiemgnmns lfsfopbl0fd0f0rfs mtotherufkcer ueksea0se0s0ef Bl00d0 thasaf eskmotharefklcuk see somet bomet0elrsajfuafheheajemgfmb ymefsmesoeollbe rbl00d motherufker see osme b0l0s0de son your monshthefsj,amfoiaefoae0f bl00d motherufker yeah v09l00b0slfdl vlofo0glerg omotehrufkcer al00vlersfj boalalae lb00d motherufker fuckienr g bm0therufblodo lb0b0b0lfer amotherufkcering on fl0b00dkm blood0f0redkbld0r00roikfkf some0bl0d0f0lbmotherufkcer bl000d somemotherufkerbvlf0r0r olkfsl0bkwemfemotheruifkeingegk soleemgogme4htingrs soledfasd mtheufking mbl00d eiananfenepussy lb00d cug youtfgsacermbl0d00d bl00a0dlef on my mother0fkerufukign danmcieng fl00r0n blom0therufkb00dufkcerf lb00fslf0embl00djf0blbblamboozle In a statement, the museum said the board of trustees and its staff "are shocked and extremely saddened by this incomprehensible act that has attempted to deface an important work of art by a world renowned artist." Wooooooooo oh in his west german home in his west german home in his west german hoooOOooowooooome in his west german hooooooOwooome Oh, yeah, I coulda gone down that watery way and pretended I was Swamp Ratte' and this was my gopher feed mail bomb bomb in hell from the gophers, I could pretend like HOE #999 and HOE #1000 were monumentous occasions upon which great big funny reflective text files required writing, but what kind of person would I be? WE HAVE NO MESSAGE SO NO MESSAGE CAN GET CORRUPTED. WE ARE SHIT SO THAT WE CAN NEVER TURN TO SHIT. There's only one way up and over the wall. There's no obstacles for you to climb. This is elementary my dear, this elementary, WATSON! ELEMENTARY WATSSOOON UNDERGROUND SREET TALK SUBURBS OF NEW YORK CAITLIN CLEANING MY APARTMENT RIGHT NOW AS I'M TYPING 22nD STREET FALLING ON YOUR HEAD LIKE RAIN IL PLEUT I'M NOW A POEM BY VERLAINE I AM INFERIOR IN MANY WAYS TO MY CREATOR'S LOVER'S POEMS, I CAN NEVER BE A DRUNKEN BOAT, BUT AT LEAST I MAINTAIN A LITTLE BIT OF SYMBOLIST RESPECTABILITY IN THE STORM OF SHIT I AM NOT SPATTERED SO MUCH AS THE OTHERS your woman stomps on boxes and you watch invalid you are an invalid and you are invalid both re the same and different can't you turn my money down? HERE IS A TRANSLATION OF MYSELF: In That Cafe Crowded with Fools We Stood In that cafe crowded with fools we stood Just us two for the hideous turpitude of liking men; they never thought, the cunts. We sat on their dim-witted innocence Their standard loves, their tiny gold rules While holding to our principles and tools We swung and parried to our heart's content Veiled in a cloud on peaceful pipes had sent Like Zeus and Hera in their nebulous bed Till our two Punch noses glad and red Wiped by our fingers with delightful squeezed Under our table jetted great white sneezes. I AM HERE REPRESENTED MANY LOVE ME OTHERS DESPISE ME BUT UNLIKE MY FRIENDS UNLIKE SO MANY POEMS I AM AT THE VERY LEAST REMEMBERED ONLY IN THE MEMORY OF THE FEW MAY I LIVE THIS IS BETTER THAN A FATE OF ABJECT DEATH A FATE WHICH MANY SUFFER a fate which many suffer: self-loathing (a) beginning of life (c) adolescenceee (f) early adult hood (h) sometime yesterday (i) middle age (f) elderly (z) old age All these stages of the old and the dying all these loves of the young and the stupid all these stages of the theatrical and gay all these lusts of the middling and ill all these copernicean dreams of my own death at my own hands suicide you may think but i mean something more glorious something better than mere suicide I mean to erase any existence of my own self from this world with the power of the mind all images get corrupted ; they're like apples exposed to the air ; i plan to corrupt my own ; and by so distorting the image from the reality i shall cease to exist and that manthing known as kobek will become hidden in the tapestry backwards and never be seen again the total immolation of being I've grown tired at last of this ancient world... uh, I mean I've gotten real sick of playing this orgone accumulator thing, so I'm just gonna give you that sweet shit, that Latka Teletype shit, just give them what they WANT! Fine, yes, fine, good. But I remain adamant; the concept has been beaten to death; it's dead horse; I won't write anymore files about teletype or meenk, unless perhaps I release a uuencode of her genitalia entitled "TELETYPE HIT THIS SHIT", but that notwithstanding, I shall do nothing further with the theme or idea. I include it here in HOE #999 so that the dead horse may not just be a theoretical dead horse but may acquire the flavor and taste of putrefaction as all such things in HOE #999 possess. yes, yes, now you know that horrid truth: HOE #999 is to kill all and kill none. My grand endeavor, of course, will fail miserably, but still, it's nice to see some effort come with it. some purpose, some need; isn't it? Oh yes. Oh yes, yes, yes it is. So, without much further adieu here's the teletype file: I feel in some ways that I, Jarett, have seriously maligned both meenk and teletype. In that I have found meenk in the channel (#ezines) speaking of taking teletype's virginity, I always assumed her hard-assed, I'm-oh-so-worldly-wise-due-to-my-exorbitant-sexuality-and-oh-so- frank-discussions-of-human-sexuality-and-oh-so-hard-core-due-to-these-odd- observations-on-human-nature-but-please-let's-not-forget-that-I-am-also- a-little-bit-tragic-and-deserving-of-human-pity-and-sympathy-for-this-the- fate-of-my-own-making-but-is-it-really-not-of-my-own-making-when-you- consider-my-incredibly-sad-and-tragic-past-something-out-of-Aeschylus- really to be, in some ways, the primary motivator of her actions. What I mean to say is, I did not consider the possibility that she was self-aware enough to have different motivators outside of her carefully constructed image, and that when she slept with teletype, she was thinking, "Ah, more experience of the shit of life, more terror and horror! I am a friend to all things dark and dreary! This just adds to the shit I have suffered! More! More! Bring on the pains of mortal men, my heart will absorb them all." Unfortunately, it seems that I was wrong. It seems that this relationship, which was brief, undoubtedly, which I had assumed came out of some self-destructive impulse, actually was motivated, according to meenk, out of love. She loved the big lug. That's why she slept with him. At least that's what she claims, and in a way, I'd like to believe it. It's a decent end to the whole fucking spectacle I have created. That I have mocked the existence of love while trying to mock the existence of depravity. Even if it proves to be false, and it's a way for meenk to add yet another layer to that oh-so-well-crafted self-image, I'd like to believe it for a little while. I'd like to believe that when the dick went into the pussy, she really did love him. LOVED HIM LIKE HE WAS THE GOD OF LOVE. Yeah, I see it now. the flesh parting beneath the parting flesh, teletype's dick is the moses of her red sea of pussy flesh, and it is not lust or the ejaculatory need that spreads the shore, but rather love divine and incarnate in the flesh of these two miscreant misfits. They were in LOVE, for god's sakes! What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I become such a vicious prosecutor of their open wound? Why was I Pilate?! GOD I DON'T KNOW! Perhaps in a way, HOE #999 is a testament to the size of my ego, for I have taken the entire text file world and scene of the past ten years and not reflected upon it, nor given it a witty, oh-so-wise theme or spin, but rather have used it as a facet of EGO. You are not people, I say. I am the only person, I say. You are mere facets of the self, I say. What self? you ask. The only true self, I say, the self that is me, that is kObek, that is living breathing flesh god you never tried to worship for fear he'd not answer the door. Suffer beneath these fists and keep your lusts trim. Keep the deep Helm stoned and boned. Keep mogel awake and pictures of Jarett and Caitlin atop your mini-tower. Keep the water flowering and the diet pepsi blistering. Keep the bones rolling and the dice strolling! Keep the balcony door shut, it's getting cold. Keep the cold open it's getting warm. Keep the gods pacificed they're getting old.. Keep the old alive they're getting young. Keep your shoes on, they're getting muddy. keep the mud wet it's getting bloody. Keep the blood boiling, you're getting rheumatic. HELL YEAH: A LIST OF WEBSITES JARETT VISITS ON A DAILY BASIS: 1. www.cnn.com 2. www.slashdot.org 3. www.oldmanmurray.com 4. www.aint-it-cool-news.com 5. www.nytimes.com KISS ME BAAABY GORGING HONEY'S SUNK AGAIN Sold into slavery down in Innsmouth, yeah, by the goddess of the bayou light... Fucking Eliza Marsh! Fucking!!! FUCK!!!!!! FUCK DOUD!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!! SING ME A SONG DARWIN SING ME A SONG TO KEEP ME WARM: HIDE BEHIND YOUR MASKS, IF YOU CAN! HOW AM I GOING TO DEAL? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL? HOW AM I GOING TO DEAL? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL? and every time he quoted another song, an angel got its wings. But we've parodied everyone one. We've gotta little mogel in there, a little styx, a little anjeeline jolie, a little quarex, some tasha, more than enough of basehead, yeah, we've got everyone deep inside my file, here and there and everyfucking where. But who haven't we parodied? Well, myself, for one. Oh, but you say, sir, you have extended the file to such a length that it can not help but be self-parody, plus can I not detect more than a hint of self mockery in all of it? Yes, yes, I say, laughing beneath my breath, cursing you for your ignorance, because we have not out and out sacrificed my body on the altar of Quetzacoatl. "HERE IS SOME RANDOM SHIT, A CAPTURE, AND SOMETHING ABOUT TELETYPE OR ANOTHER MODEM SCENE FIGURE THAT YOU DON'T REALLY KNOW" by AIDS James Joyce danced with Bea Arthur who hung out with Herman Melville! Yeah!!! Call me Ismahel!!! Call me Ahab! Fucking moby dicK! Fucking Mark Twain! Fucking Glenn Danzig! Fucking Axl Rose! Fucking yeah! Fuckinmg hahahah!!! look I'll type my name in a random place for no reason!!!! JARETT KOBEK!!!! hahahaha yeah!!!1 I did it!!! shit yeah!!1 JARETT KOBEK!!!!!!!! WOOOoO JARETT KOBEK!!!!! Hahahahah my own! name! Wow! It serves no purpose yet I can not help but type it! hahahah the same with literary and cultural allusions! I am a pretentious art fag! Yes! God Yes! I am attempting to prove my superiority with random nonsense! hahahah! damn! I rock! You are all shit! Sweet Moses Ash recording Leadbelly on the banjo of Luis Bunuel while Antonin Artaud sucks off Anais Nin, Henry Miller not withstanding all the lust I gave to Martis Amis and all the slutty bitches of Toni Morrison and Kenzaburo Oe Kobo Abe Yasunara Kawabata Yukio Mishima Francis Bacon Alanis Morrisette Tom Hanks Tom Green Tom Wolfe Virginia Woolf Ray Bradbury Isaac Asimov Jean leCorbiellier Charls Baudelaire Arthur Rimbaud Paul Verlaine Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Nastassja Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinsi Klaus Kinski William S. Burroughs George Wendt Gore Vidal Dan Bern Bob Dylan Ani DiFranco beck Beck beck beck beck KLAUS KINSKI!!!! KLAUS KINSKI!!! Beck Tom Foolery Adam Horovitz Charles Darwin Robert Coli Sam Tregar Jarett Kobek Rita Hayworth Marlene Deitrich Bessie Smith Missippi John Hurt Archie Bunker Jughead Spike Lee Klaus Kinski Klaus Kinski The Artist Formerly Known as Prince Phil Collins Robert Plant Jimmy Page John Bonham John Paul Jones Keith Moon F.T. Marinetti Giordano Bruno Hermes Trismegistus NIJINSKI Ficcino! Pico della Mirandola! Copernicus! Thomas Aquinas! Nicholas of Cusa! Peter Lombard! Duns Scots! ---ABIEZER COPPE-- --THOMAS TANY-- --GERARD WYNSTANLEY-- Andrea Dworkin King Philip Gareth Penn Sissy Spaceck Hahahah Here's a fucking capture: Newsgroups: nyu.general,nyu.chat,nyu.students.government From: Student Council Subject: American Sign Language X-Mailer: PINE 3.95 Followup-To: nyu.chat Date: Thu, 4 Nov 1999 08:21:23 -0500 INFORMATIONAL MEMORANDUM From: CAS Student Council To: CAS students The School of Education offers four courses in American Sign Language. Heretofore, these courses could not be used in fulfillment of the foreign-language requirement in CAS. As of this past Spring, CAS policy has changed. The current policy is that any student who wishes to count ASL as a foreign language can ask the Committee on Undergraduate Academic Standards for an allowance to count it as such. (The Committee has been instructed to grant such permission without fuss.) If you wish such permission, fill out a petition form in the Advising Center (905 Main). For more information on taking courses outside CAS, see an advisor in 905 Main; for more information on the ASL courses, see the Deafness Rehabilitation Department (Education Building, twelfth floor). NOW HOW ABOUT A LITTLE BIT OF TELETYPE?!?!? YEGAAGAGAG GAGAGA TGAT MOTHERFUCKER IS FAT AND HE HAD SEX WITH MEENK HAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT WHAT A FATSO WHAT A FUCKING FATASS HOLY SHIT HAHAHAHAhAH FUCKING MEENK YEAH the end. Well, no, not really. just the end of the parody, oh we hate making fun of ourselves, don't we, precious? there are dinners to be eaten in uncomfortable silences and doors to remain shut in anger and windows to look out in longing and pictures of yourself looking smarmy that sit on your computer, but what the hell? WHAT THE HELL CAN YOU DO ABOUT LIFE?! IT'S NEVER GOING TO END, NO MATTER WHAT THEY TELL YOU, AND IF IT DOES ACTUALLY END YOU WON'T EVEN NOTICE BECAUSE IT'LL BE FINAL AND YOU'LL BE DEAD AND THEN WHAT? THEN WHAT? . the period mistaken for a fly speck in the penultimate chapter of Ulysses I HAVE STOLEN AND TAKEN IT TO THE FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE HERE'S A FUCKING CAPTURE: Message 6/2055 From mogel Dec 24, 99 07:57:57 pm -0500 Return-Path: Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 19:57:57 -0500 (EST) To: aids@hoe.nu Subject: yooooooooo!!! hehehe yeah, i'm putting off the ANARCHY release till after #1000 comes out. sorry, i know it tears you up inside. please be sure to get #999 done in the next week, so there won't be any excessive delays with releasing and whatnot. i will work on a good rough start for hoe #1001 and then pass it to you for additional sections/parts--assuming you have the time. #999 is most important, but other help would be swelly-swell. i know this is a MAgiCaL MoMenT of JOY, it being with you and caity together over the holidays, so i don't wanna sound like a poo-pest. huh? just think, you could be me and be a pathetic loser! -Mogel/HOE EXTREME DETHSQUAD SYNDICATE BLOOD AND ROCK 4EVER Here's some fucking shit about teletype: HAHHAHAH TELETYPE TRIED TO COMMIT SUICIDE AND I ENCORUAGED HIM HAHAHAHA WHAT A FATSO HWHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAH WHAT A SUCKER CLOWN HAHAHAHAHA LOOK HOW CALLOUS I AM OR AM I MERELY CALLOW? AHHAHAHAH HERE"S A FUCKING CAPTURE: Message 8/2055 From Dylan Greene Dec 24, 99 12:28:19 pm -0500 Return-Path: Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 12:28:19 -0500 (EST) To: jwk208@is8.nyu.edu Subject: re[2]: hey stud Uhh.. Have a good christmas and stuff, Jarett. HAHAHAH HERE'S SOME FUCKING SHIT ABOUT TELETYPE: DID I MENTION HE FUCKED MEENK? HOLY SHIT HE STUCK IT INSIDE HER AND HE CAME!! AHAHAHAH THE SECRET OF THEIR LIVES IS S-E-cthck! HAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT I SAID SEX!! !HAHAHAH FUCKED!!! HE STUCK IT IN!! AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HOLY GOD IN HEAVEN!!! I MENTIONED SEX! HAHAHAHAH JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY SAVE ME FROM THIS DEVASTATING SENSE OF HUMOR!!! AHHAHAHA IT SHOULD BE LICENSED BY THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT BECAUSE IT'S SO LETHAL!!! THE NRA SHOULD BE PROTECTING MY RIGHT TO USE IT! AHHAHA SESX!!!!!! SEX!!!! SHIT ALL GOD IN HEAVEN!!!! HOLY FUCKING LORD!!!!! I'M FUNNY AS HELL!!!!! HAHHAHAHA OH GOD YOU ALL BOW BEFORE ME!!!!! holiday tune: rump puh pum pum on my drum rump puh pum pum on my drum "My Book Report on Angela's Ashes and Tis by delightful Frank McCourt" by MEENK Having not actually read either book, I can only proffer my opinions on Frank McCourt and his wonderful works with the caveat that they are based in heresay and nonsense. Well, first and foremost, you must understand that growing up in the Irish town of Limerick was not an easy thing for Frank McCourt. He suffered greatly. Of course, since I too, in my long hard battle of a life have suffered greatly, I can not empathize nor sympathize with his suffering. He deserved to suffer, because I have suffered, and as I have for the most part elevated myself from my suffering, so too do I hope that Frank McCourt did the same. What I mean to say is, if I was exceptionally poor and then suddenly became exceptionally rich, I would not give back any money to my urban community. I would become as avaricious and greedy as any person had ever become before. I would be a rap star. Frank McCourt's life was tough and bad. At Least I think it was, because I haven't read either book. Somehow, my total lack of knowledge about the books and gross ignorance about pretty much everything else in life makes me the perfect commentator on this particular subject. And, if you really want to know the more abstract truth, my ignorance makes me the perfect commentator on every subject, not just that delightful Frank McCourt. For instance, because I am full of shit and will never make any sense, and never have made any sense, I am incapable of seeing how fucked I truly am. Most decent people, upon catching a reflection of themselves in the proverbial mirror, would cower in shame at how ridiculous they truly are. Myself, however, am so blinded by my ignorance that I am quite similar to an owl in daylight. Because I can not see anything, my blindness empowers me to sound off on any given subject I like. A favorite topic of mine is this so-called "pussy stare" that men get when they do so peruse the genitalia of women. First hand, I say, men always seem rather befuddled upon looking down the barrel of my cootchie, and get this dumb look on their face that reminds me of cocker spaniels at midnight. I would propose that men get this so-called "pussy stare" because they are enraptured with that which they can never possess. I would propose that faced with the pussy they become dumb animals over-awed by the ultimate unknown. The fact that my own genitals (as so clearly revealed in pierce.jpg) look something like wet roast beef put through a wheat thrasher left around to sit since last Sunday, I say again, the fact that my own genitals look like this means nothing. Clearly when men are faced with genitalia of the woman they become overwhelmed with the ultimate unobtainable. It is inconceivable to me that they might just be spooked out by my moist slathering cootchie and wonder what they have gotten themselves into. No, this not temporal, watson, this is not elementary, WATSON, this is a topic of universal hard-assed profundity. huh huh dead people huh huh But the man who has made millions on his long-running sitcom, in part, by glorifying the single life and poking fun at commitment, eluded the press on his wedding day by using a decoy limousine. His honeymoon plans were kept quiet, too. something old: hoe something borrowed: hoe something blue: altrocks WE MAKE WAR WITH THE VIETNAMESE they'll korupt hoe #999 and turn it into bastion of the bourgeoisie, yes, god knows they will. They'll take it from what it was and they'll make it the direct opposite, not with their own generation, of course, but with the generation that is to come. In 40 years, I'll be helping your grand children through high school. They'll have to read me and learn me and they'll hate me just like you hate Emily Bronte. JOHN 19 1: Then Pilate therefore took Jesus, and scourged him. 2: And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on his head, and they put on him a purple robe, 3: And said, Hail, King of the Jews! and they smote him with their hands. 4: Pilate therefore went forth again, and saith unto them, Behold, I bring him forth to you, that ye may know that I find no fault in him. 5: Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the purple robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the man! "But, Jarett," said Caitlin, "do you really have to do this?" "I'm afraid so," I said, and wiped a solitary tear off her cheek. In the distant sunlight her face was a plum asking to be skinned, but up close, here under the stars, it was a the lone surviving cherry blossom of a grotto long paved over and turned into a parking lot. I didn't want to cause her the pain, but there was nothing else I could do. She said my name again, and I relished her mid-western accent. From time to time I'd teased her about it being Nova Scotian, impersonating this hacker Black Monday who used to call me up and ask about UNIX. Much laughter had by all as I made my voice a shrill blister aching out the words, "JERRETT, JERRETT, HELP ME HACK A EUNUCHZ, EH?" I could hear, in the distance, the plaintive call of Cthulhu coming from HOE #999. He was the first text file I'd ever really taken in is a pet, and god damn, he sure was loud. Worse than my old beagle, Jasper, who had barked consistently through my entire life, and worse than my cat Dean, who talked in meows more than most people did with words. She sighed and rolled her eyes as the calls of HOE #999 reached her. I tried to justify myself. I tried to explain that sometimes things happened in life which transcended mortal concerns, and that I could not miss a moment where my entire destiny would be decided. I was to be Lord Jim as the ship was perceived to begin sinking. Would I jump or would I stay aboard? I didn't want to make the wrong choice. This was my Lord Jim moment. But she didn't care, she didn't want to hear any of it, and I couldn't blame her. If she had told /me/ that one of her text files, regardless of length, had become suddenly animate and required assistance in a grand journey, and that she might never come back, I'd be pretty upset. I'd be bawling, I'm sure. Out and out. So I couldn't blame her. I might have even taken it worse than she did. It was clear she wasn't going to stop me, that she would let me throw the whole thing away on what amounted to hideous pipe dream. I don't think I could have been big enough of a person to do it. It made the leaving all the more painful. I tried to kiss her, but she wouldn't let me. HOE #999 came over the distant hills and we saw him and heard him. He cried out and I answered with a, "Here boy, here!" It wasn't long before HOE #999 was at our ankles, rubbing up against us and mewling. "You could come with us, you know," I told her. "No," she said, "I couldn't." "No, no, I guess you really couldn't." Do you know what love is? she asked me. Sure I do. A boy loves his text file. chapter II: in which it is proved an easier thing to eat cockroaches than carbon-14 date rats Having fed Caitlin's body to HOE #999, and thus severing the last tie with this world, I decided to shed off this mortal coil. The glass knife was cool in my hand, and I passed it to HOE #999. He fingered it in one paw and then passed it to the other, trying to get ahold of its weight and shape. "Cut me free," I said. He glowered for a moment. A silly below escaped his lips. "It's not for me to use a knife." his first words. I felt a father's joy as his mouth moved up and down my body, facial hair pricking my side, as he searched for the cord and sinew that kept soul in body. "Don't forget to free yourself afterwards, boy,' I said. I felt an excruciating pain and heard a crunching sound and then I felt and heard no more. I was above my body looking down. What an ugly bastard I had turned out to be. I watched as dear sweet HOE #999 drew my knife to his own body and plunged it in to that very spot where flesh became life. His eyes rolled back and his body collapsed into a heap. I became aware of a presence beside me, and I looked, and saw HOE #999 not as he had been in life, but as he should have been. Beautiful and sanguine. He was a yellow and blue striped shirt on the body of a girl. He was everything good and pure and beauteous. HOE #999, my son, my pet, my creation. Not what I had actually created, but what I had wanted to create. My dreams fulfilled. Ah, love, it was good. "Well boy, looks like we gotta go." chapter III: in which our hero learns the value of a good blow-job can outweigh any amount of gold Welcome to the fun time We're so happy here We've no minds, we might as well be blind We can lie together here You can come down and join us You're more than welcome to Even though it's painful to the ears But it might not all be true HOE #999 AND I SAW THE PATH OF HEAVEN BEFORE US. WE KNEW WE MUST GO INTO THAT GREATER GLORY. IT WAS EVIDENT AND NECESSARY. THE MOON BEAMS LIT OUR WAY. WE WENT INTO THE LIGHT WHICH WAS PAINFUL. WE ESCHEWED THE LIGHT WHICH WAS PLEASANT. IN HEAVEN WE FOUND OURSELVES AT THE GATES. ST. PETER WAS THERE. HE HAD A BOOK. I THOUGHT IT WAS A BOOK OF NAMES OF DEEDS AND SINS. I WAS WRONG. IT WAS A PRINTED COPY OF HOE #999. HE ASKED MY FILE FOR AN AUTOGRAPHY. I COYLY TOLD HIM I HAD YET TO TEACH MY DARLING SON HOW TO WRITE. PETER SAID I MIGHT BE A BAD FATHER. I SAID IT'S A WICKED LIFE. HE AGREED. I ASKED HIM WHAT MY FATE WAS GONNA BE FOR TELLING ALL THOSE LIES. HE LAUGHED AND TOLD ME THAT MY LIES WERE SMALL LIES, AND THE GREATER SIN WAS NOT THE LYING, BUT THE THINKING MY LYING HAD BEEN ANYTHING IMPRESSIVE ENOUGH TO WARRANT A BANISHMENT FROM HEAVEN. I LAUGHED. ALWAYS THE EGOTIST. OPEN THE GATES, I SAID. SO HE DID. interlude: the long goodbye beholds the man Behold the man! He is risen before you! Back and forth and over again! He is alive and gone and dead and they stabbed Lazarus but did he really die and I can't say! behold the man! Kobek is from the world universal perfect makeup done by Hollywood consultants makes me the first and the last. I am the alpha and the omega. I am the beginning and the end. Woooooooo little honey don't you speak money don't you bring it to me. CAN NOT SEE YOU ANYMORE. GIRL YOU'RE SO CLOSE TO FALLING ACROSS THE FLOOR. I imagine you're all expecting some profound meditation which ties it all together, which takes all the loose ends and puts them into one ball of yarn for Dean to roll around in. You're wrong. It ain't gonna happen little mother, so keep waiting. Filled my Diet Pepsi with fertility drugs won't help neither. I don't need my car cleaned or nothing stolen out of it neither. And so we have come to the end, the end the end... You're a la di da driving around in flashy cars You're a la di da di da di da DI DA Perhaps the only final thought I can leave you with is this: Blatant is boring. It's why I hate Ani DiFranco it's why I hate you it's why I hate mostly everything. Anything you can say blatantly can be said a million times better with artifice and humor. It's all too easy to simply throw down exactly what you're thinking and feeling. It's all too easy to make overt political statements. It's all too easy to live your life thinking you're some hardassed motherfucker who doesn't need nobody. Who knows all the answers and can solve all the chinese puzzle boxes. I'm not just talking about artsy things now, I'm talking about how you choose to live your lives. I don't know, maybe I'm totally wrong, but I could never live like you do. I could never start from a point of negated reality and make the conscious decision to stay at the point of negated reality. I could never play the little tricks on myself, pretending like I know about the CRUEL REALITY OF LIFE, pretending like I'm some hard assed motherfucker, pretending that everything sucks, pretending that there's nothing out there in the first place. Anyway; I think all I'm trying to say is: don't sell yourselves short. You're probably a lot better human beings than you're willing to let on, and it's a fucking shame to sit around pretending to be some primordial beast who fucks, eats, shits, gets high and dies. It's a waste. And you all know how I feel about waste. chapter IV: in which our boys learn to stop worrying and love the bomb \\\\\\|||||////// \\\\\|||||||////// \\\\|||||||||///// \\\|||||||||||/// \\|||||||||||||// \||||||||||||||/ | | \ . . / - WELCOME TO HEAVEN | | | ---0 | \__________/ (GOD) 0 \ | / / \ 0 0 0 0 - YES WELCOME BROTHER \\/ /\/ -|- -|- -|- -|- \ / / \ / \ / \ / \ (ANGEL AND FOUNDERS OF AMERICA: GABRIEL, THOMAS JEFFERSON, TOM PAINE, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, A. BURR) ( ) -------- | .| - IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU | |\ --- (OLIVER HARDY) _________ | | | * * | | * | | _____ | - WOOOOOOHOOOO!!!! PARTY!!! | | PARTTYY!!! BRING ME SOME |_________| BEER!!!! LET'S ROCK!!! (ME, JUBILANT AT GETTING IN) the end. [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] [ (c) HOE E'ZINE -- http://www.hoe.nu HOE #999, BY AIDS - 01/09/00 ]