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Capital of Nasty Vol. 06 Issue 06

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Capital of Nasty
 · 5 years ago

  

Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine
Volume VI, Issue 6, AD MMI
Monday, July 9, 2001
ISSN 1482-0471
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I'm back trying to build my datapanik site. I'm using GoLive now,
which is better than Dreamweaver. Which is to say that I feel like I
only have one testicle locked in a vice now.

I'm just trying to do simple things like make the horizontal line
that appears in GoLive also show up in a browser. Believe me, I'm
not doing ANYTHING ambitious. Of course it would probably be easier
if I were trying to make the whole thing spin and puke walnuts.

-- Adam

-------------------------------------------

Morbus 9:25 PM: not good. i'm searching around on the net for people
i used to know, and the closest match for this one chick is "J. W.
was last seen alive" <g>...

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1. Editorial
2. Socio-Political Themes in The Smurfs
3. Took and developed "old time" sepia photos of tourists on
Cannery Row

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This week's Golden Testicle award:

They call him... Bruce

http://www.card1004.com/card/bsjj/53.swf

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1. Editorial
By Leandro Asnaghi-Nicastro

The Trilogy of Cattle.

THE QUESTION IS: WHAT HAS YOUR LIVESTOCK DONE FOR CANADA?

Apparently May 15th was the deadline to fill in your Canada Census
form. The volunteers came by and left the forms on my door. My
immediate reaction was to leave it outside for a few days, hoping it
would go away. It didn’t.

Eventually, tired of seeing it hanging off my doorknob, I took it
inside.

Now, I should specify that I had every intention to fill in the
blanks of the many questions Canada Census had to ask this year.
However, when I was going through it and got to the “How many
tractors do you own?” on page 12, (followed by many questions about
livestock, land and related), I knew this was going to be more than
a five minute job.

So I set it aside on my kitchen table where it disappeared beneath
heaps of shit that is on it and I promptly forgot. May 15th came
and left, without me ever thinking about it twice.

The neo-fascist police of volunteers that ran the show of course did
not let this go by unnoticed and began filling my voice mail with
messages, which I promptly ignored. If there is one thing I am bad
at, is listening to my answering machine. In fact, if someone were
to call me to inform me that a member of my family had passed away,
and left a message, I’d find out about it probably two months after
the funeral.

Naturally, seeing the lack of results in voice mails, they began
posting notes on my door. I should perhaps mention that now we’re
somewhere along the end of June, a month and a half after the
deadline. I open the door and find this note stating that I failed
to fill in the form, and that I may be in for some trouble, like 3
months in jail, unless I comply immediately.

Picture this, arrested for not filling my census.
“What are you in for?”
“Armed robbery. You?”
“Aggravated assault. What about the new guy?”
“Failed to fill in my census”.
I may as well just unzip my pants and bend over at that point.

I digress. Feeling rather upset for my lack of patriotism, with
Jeff nagging at me for not doing my part as a good Canadian, I call
the number listed in the threat notice. Neo-fascistic policewoman
answers the phone and I take a moment and contemplate at how many
times I’ve taken people’s ability to speak English properly, for
granted.

The questions are standard procedure: name, last name, where do you
live, how many live in your cramped apartment. Some have to be
repeated a few times, just so I can get the gist of what she’s
asking.

And when I think we’re almost done, the farming questions pop up
again.
“Do you own a tractor?”
“No” (Yes, I use it to go to work every day)
“Do you own livestock in your premises?”
“With me?”
“Yes”
“In my bachelour apartment?”
“Yes”
“My tiny, cramped little bachelour apartment?”
“Yes! Sir, please answer the question!”
“No, I do not”.
“Okay, next question, how many acres of land...”

You can see my state of total confusion at this point. I just wish
I did have the recordings of small, furry hoofed animals bleating so
I could scream at the top of my lungs “STOP CHEWING AT THE TELEPHONE
CABLE!”

Then again, government types are the last people on earth that have
a sense of humour, and they may just take you seriously.

I SCREW YOU

I had a rather annoying night. ICQ blew up on my computer and
refused to work. But that’s okay because ICQ is one of those
programmes that will crash in a glorious ball of flame for no
apparent reason. The latest version takes 16 MB of RAM, it’s filled
with the most useless shyte ever (which you’ll never use), craps all
over your registry, and now it has the added bonus of advertising
(unless you install the “patch”).

We have AOL to thank for first ruining Netscrape, and now ICQ.

So I kept working, when other applications began showing the same
symptoms of death and would refuse to run again. That’s one thing I
love about Windows over Linux. With the former, every so many
months, the machine explodes and it takes everything with it. With
Linux, you set it up once, turn it on and forget about it.

So I go through the process of reinstalling everything, discovering
the power supply fan meanwhile has failed, fix that, can’t get the
sound card to work anymore, and when I do, the network card stops
working. A night of great hilarity let me tell you.

Eventually, I am sitting in front of a computer, with more pieces on
the floor than I have originally started with, but it works. It’s
one of those moments where you ask how an install on the same
machine, using the same old copy of Windows95B, is never the same
twice.

My ten year old Macs are more reliable than this.

After reinstalling essential programmes, I decide to install ICQ 98,
but the re-registration fails, with Error #101. I try a few more
times, and eventually give up. Why you need to re-register on the
ICQ network after an install makes no sense to me, but I suppose it
is a way to prevent you from using older ICQ installs. Thanks AOL.

The next morning I try again, and it is still not working. Unsure
at what to do, I drop by the chat-channel on the ICQ pages, where
you can ask for help.

You should go and spend some quality time there, for it’s quite an
amazing little place. There I met a bunch of people that whenever
they have spare time, sit there and help others figure out their ICQ
problems.

Now, that wouldn’t be so bad, but it seems that these folks actually
live there: The frustrated MSCE that feels guilty bad-mouthing
Windows.
The teen-mother that at the first chance she’s got will complain at
how she’s got no time to find a job because of her kid. (Two things
for you: there is this amazing invention called Condoms, and if you
have the time to waste here, you definitely have time to find a
job).
The “I write English like a retard and say ‘LOL’ a lot, but I really
can’t help you” kid from Australia.
And it’s not like they work for ICQ, AOL or Mirabilis. They just
hang out there and answer questions to troubled ICQ users. All day
long.

Of course the numb-nuts that live on the channel ejaculate their cut
and paste answer that Error #101 means the database is being worked
on.

You’re prolly wondering where “cattle” comes along this story. It
does. Just be patient and you’ll see it in the insane amount of
bullshit I had to endure.

Unsure, or mostly because I wouldn’t trust any of these fucks for
anything, I e-mail support at ICQ. ICQ support, I discovered, is a
lot like Network Solutions. For those that have never had to endure
Network Solutions, just fire e-mail to ICQ’s tech support.

So, I write a long detailed e-mail of how I am experiencing the
problem, provide logs, tests I have done, and various results. This
because, after being online for nearly a decade, you sort of realize
what useful feedback is all about.

The first e-mail that came back was from Omri. It thanked me for
writing. It told me I should reinstall ICQ2000 and try again. It
also re-directed me to the most useless “help” page ever. I wrote
back asking that my many questions be answered.

And I also e-mailed support again, in the hopes I’d get someone
else.

The second e-mail was from Maya. Maya told me that she was thankful
I wrote to them. That I should reinstall ICQ2000. And she pointed
out that there is a webpage that has instructions to help me
troubleshoot problems. The same useless page from Omri. I wrote
back, and asked that my many questions, please, be answered.

Then I e-mailed support again.

Two more different people eventually wrote to me and I discovered an
interesting pattern:

For any ICQ problem you may be having, even if the e-mail you send
says “ICQ NO WORK” or “I like buggering gorillas” can be solved with
the following sentence:
“Thank you for writing to us. Please reinstall ICQ2000. Please
visit this page” and a link to the useless page.

The page, if you are curious, simply states the same thing, without
the “thank you” and “check this page”.

Meanwhile I installed this thing called Miranda ICQ, which just does
one thing: sends and receives messages. It doesn’t eat up 16 MB of
your precious RAM and it’s not filled with the dumbest of options
you’ll never use. Sure, it looks kind of funny, but at least it’s a
true Alpha and you don’t have to re-register.

THE GOVERNMENT WANTS TO KNOW WHERE YOUR CATTLE IS

If you’re wondering if I have too much time on my hands, you’re
pretty much correct. Since the lay off, I’ve applied to the Human
Resources Development Canada (HRDC) for my unemployment insurance,
so I’ll have something that will pay my rent and bills during the
period that I’ll be searching for a job. But like any government-
related department, getting things done takes a long time.

First of all, I had to go through a computerized questionnaire that
wanted to know just about everything about me. Isn’t the government
supposed to know all this stuff already? What boggled my mind again
was the many questions related to tractors, acres of land, and
livestock I own. How is this supposed to help me get my Employment
Insurance (EI) cheque, I still don’t know.

And as I said, things take forever. To give you an example, I was
to fill in form 42B, section A, attached to a void cheque, in order
to be eligible for direct deposit. Unfortunately the bank I am
currently at, despite my many complaints after the third time I have
asked them to send me a stack of cheques, still hadn’t done so six
months down the road.

After an hour in line, I get the cashier to print me ten cheques,
and I return to the HRDC office with the form filled.

After an hour and a half in line to simply hand in the form, I am
told that my form is invalid because the cheque doesn’t have my name
printed on it. So it’s back in line at the bank.

This time I have to have a cashier fill in form 42B, sections B and
C. The cashier starts arguing with me that the cheque is valid,
while I am trying to explain that it ain’t me she needs to argue
with. But she won’t desist. A gentle “Just fill the fucking form”
gets the job done and I’m back in line at the HRDC offices...

...where roughly 45 minutes later I hand in the form. But alas! To
hand in the other form I was given, I have to wait till 3 o’clock
(and it’s only 2 PM). At 3 I finally meet the person to whom I am
to give the second form, only to be told “You need to hand this one
in at the end of August”.

Oh help me God.

By the time you’ll read this, I’ll be in Rome.
-------------------------------------------

2. Socio-Political Themes in The Smurfs
By Jonathon Marc S.

1.) Introduction:
This is a discursive analysis of the television programme The
Smurfs, created by Peyo, and first aired during the greater part of
the eighties. In other words, it is an analysis of some of the
socio-political themes I have noticed in the show.

The Smurfs is a unique programme. It is, first and foremost, a
cartoon, and as such it is aimed at children. The discussion could
end there, however, unlike many other cartoons, or indeed other
television programmes, The Smurfs is about an entire society and its
interactions with itself and with outsiders, rather than the
adventures of just a few characters. Hence I believe it is, in
short, a political fable, in much the same way that The Lion, the
Witch and the Wardrobe was a fable about Christianity. Rather than
Christianity, however, The Smurfs is about Marxism.

I am not accusing The Smurfs of being some kind of subversive kiddie
propaganda - although if it was, would it really be that much worse
than the spate of 'toyetic' cartoons of the same decade that only
existed to sell plastic toys? In any case, this essay should be seen
as the highest kind of praise. What other children’s' shows would
address the issue of Marxism in such a way, and at such a pivotal
point in the history of the Cold War? The Smurfs should be praised
for using metaphor and the device of the fairy tale to introduce
children to political themes. If Peyo was a socialist, however, he
was obviously not the sort who had much time for the version of it
practiced by the Soviet Union and other Eastern bloc police states.
He was a utopian. There is a distinct lack of any kind of army or
police in the Smurf Village. On rare occasions when it is necessary,
they form their own civilian militia to fight off threats.
Otherwise, it is the absolute opposite of the police state.

After my brief analysis of Marxism in The Smurfs, I will also be
addressing the issues of feminism and homosexuality in the show. But
the main concern of this essay is to argue that The Smurfs was a
Marxist fable.

2.) The Smurf Village as a Marxist Utopia:
The Smurf Village itself is a perfect model of a socialist commune
or collective. It is self-reliant, and the land is not owned by
individuals, but by the entire collective of all the Smurfs, if the
word 'owned' is even appropriate.

Papa Smurf represents Karl Marx. He is not so much the leader of the
Smurfs as an equal revered by the others for his age and wisdom. He
has a beard, as did Marx, and thus could conceivably be a caricature
as well. And lastly, he wears red, which is the traditional colour
of socialism. Brainy Smurf could represent Trotsky. He is the only
one in the village who comes close to matching Papa's intellect - he
is a thinker. With his round spectacles, he could also be a
caricature of Trotsky. He is often isolated, ridiculed or even
ejected from the commune of the village for his ideas. And of
course, Trotsky was banished from the USSR.

Despite their different professions/distinctions, the Smurfs are all
completely equal. Thus, while the occupations of certain Smurfs,
such as Farmer, Handy and Greedy, are more important than others,
such as Clumsy, Grouchy, or Lazy, there is no feeling that certain
Smurfs are superior or inferior to others because of their work, or
level of skill, because ultimately, everyone is a Smurf first.

Economically, the Smurf Village is closed-market. There is no money,
and all possessions are communal - property of the collective.
Everyone is equally a worker and an owner. The Smurfs reject the
idea of a free-market economy, with its greed and inequities, and
the collective is more important and valuable than the individual.
The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. John Lennon asked us
to 'imagine no possessions'. The Smurf Village achieves that goal.
In fact, many of the ideas expressed in that song are reality in the
Village. There is one large piece of capital, or produced means of
production, in the Smurf Village: the dam. It is owned, operated and
repaired by the entire collective.
The Smurfs all refer to one another by the same title; 'Smurf'. Eg,
Brainy Smurf, Handy Smurf, Jokey Smurf, Lazy Smurf, Papa Smurf. This
is highly reminiscent of socialist states' use of the word 'comrade'
when referring to others, instead of more elitist titles.

Adding to the idea of complete equality in the Village, most of the
Smurfs wear the same kind and colour of clothes. It is a general
work uniform, and with the distinctive caps and blue skin, is highly
reminiscent of the so-called Mao Suit, common in Maoist China.
In the tradition of pure Marxism, the Smurf Village is atheist.
There is no god, and there is no Priest Smurf. There are only the
'real' forces of nature and physics, and these are represented
metaphorically by the characters of Mother Nature and Father Time.
Of course, there is also magic, as practised by Papa, Gargomel,
Balthazar and others, but it is simply another tool, something that
occurs in nature, that has physical properties and can be tapped
into, with the right know-how. It is not, as many religions are, a
way of understanding the universe in a supernatural context.

The episode The King Smurf was the ultimate illustration of the
Marxian conflict between the bad, oppressive kind of government,
where greedy kings (and capitalists) exploited the population for
their own ends; and the good, egalitarian political model Marx had
formulated. In the episode, a militia is formed to overthrow Brainy,
who has become King in Papa Smurf's absence, and utopian order is
restored when Papa Smurf returns. In this instance, Papa Smurf, as
Marx himself, represents the ideal form of Marxism.

The evil wizard Gargomel represents capitalism. He embodies
everything bad about capitalism. He is greedy, ruthless, and his
only concern is with his own personal gratification. He is what
happens when the individual makes himself more important than the
society he lives in. Not coincidentally, he is also a crazy old
hermit with no real friends.

What does Gargomel want to do with the Smurfs? He has two ideas. The
first is to eat them. This is unusual, because the Smurfs are small
and rare, and would not make as good eating as, say, a deer. It is
similar to Sylvester's obsession with eating the golf ball sized
meal that is Tweety Bird. There are two explanations. The first is
that metaphorically, he wants to devour socialism, as the West
wanted to do to the USSR and its satellites during the Cold War
through its tactic of encirclement. The second is that as a pure
capitalist, he wishes to turn everything into a commodity -
including people. The second thing Gargomel plans to do to the
Smurfs once he catches them is to turn them into gold. As the
ultimate supercapitalist, he is more concerned with his own wealth
than with equality and fairness. Like any Adam Smith style
capitalist, it is his 'natural' state to want as much money as he
can get.

Gargomel is a cold, bitter and ultimately empty man. This is because
he has nothing else in his life but a soulless quest for wealth and
possessions. A definite statement about the anti-social effects of
economic rationalism.

Gargomel's ginger cat, Azrael, represents the worker in the
ruthless, free-market state that is Gargomel's house. He is
uncomplaining, or, since he has no voice (ie. Trade Unions), is
metaphorically unable to complain. He cannot negotiate his wage - he
eats whatever he is given by his master. He is smaller and less well
off than Gargomel, and metaphorically, he represents the
proletariat, while Gargomel represents the bourgeois. Azrael is
exploited and oppressed. He risks his life fighting and hunting for
his master, and does not have the intellectual capacity to question
this state of affairs, just as the worker suffered his fate for
centuries because education was off limits to him, and he had no
other option but to work for his bosses.

Gargomel owns his house and everything in it, including the capital
of his alchemical equipment, in nothing like the way that the Smurfs
own their village. If the same political structure existed at
Gargomel's house, both he and Azrael would be equal owners,
regardless of Gargomel's superior size, knowledge and skill. But
Azrael owns nothing.

The incursion of the new characters later in the series/eighties,
such as the Smurflings, with their colours and different clothes and
looks, can be viewed in the real world as an incursion by commercial
interests to increase the popularity and sellability old the show.
In the show, metaphorically, they represent Western intrusion to the
utopian harmony of the Smurf Village, just as Gorbachev's glasnost
and perestroika reforms in the mid to late eighties heralded the
ultimate demise of the Soviet Union.

3.) Feminism and The Smurfs:
Monique Wittig wrote that women are defined as women, while men are
defined by their occupation, the idea being that men have
occupations but women do not. For example, if an accident was being
reported, the victims might be described as 'a teacher, a plumber
and a woman'. Smurfette is unique in the village in that she is not
defined by an occupation or a personality trait like the male, or
real Smurfs, but by her sex. She is not a real member of society
because of her sex, and this is represented metaphorically in the
show by the fact that she was created by Gargomel.

The diminutive suffix of 'ette', common in our society, also
identifies Smurfette as being not the equal of the males. She is the
second sex.

Above I asserted that everyone in the Village was equal. In a sense,
this is still true. In the beginning, it was all-male, and
Smurfette's introduction did not disrupt the patriarchal order.
Thus, Smurfette is equal to the others politically, but not
socially.

In an ideal, sexist, patriarchal state, women are not a part of the
community. They do not occupy the 'public sphere' of work and the
outside world, and they certainly do not work. Smurfette's main
occupation seems to be standing around looking pretty, ie 'being the
woman', although when it comes to problem solving, the producers
have not, thankfully, made her a brainless bimbo. She is quite a bit
sharper than the rest of the Smurfs, except of course, for Papa.

Smurfette is definitely the 'object' of the male gaze. Since she is
the object, the males are the subjects. They are active, she is
passive.

Smurfette has no breasts. I believe this is significant when we
consider how Smurfette was created. She began life as the almost
Frankensteinian creation of Gargomel. As a capitalist, he naturally
is treating her as a commodity, something which can be made, used
and disposed of, all ultimately to make him money. The idea that a
woman can be made by a man denies women's key role in procreation.
The fact that she does not posses breasts goes further to this
denial of nature, an attempt to control women, to make them conform
to the societal norm imposed by the patriarchal order.

Smurfette is a secondary creation, in that she was made after the
males. She has a heart of stone, and technically, she is unnatural.
Physically and metaphorically, she is not a 'real' smurf. She is, in
short, bad and wrong, as patriarchal cultures have viewed women for
centuries.

How do you make a better woman? In other words how do you make a
woman who is acceptable by society (ie. the Village or our own
society)? One, you take all the fight out of her. Make her
compliant, make her toe the line created and maintained by the male-
dominated social structure. One visual example of this is her
transformation from a brunette to a blonde. Western society
traditionally stereotypes dark-haired women as brainy, but blondes
as dumber, but more beautiful and desirable. And that is another way
to make a better woman. You make her beautiful. Essentially, when
Papa Smurf casts his spell to make Smurfette a 'real' Smurf, the
visible difference was that she was more 'beautiful' as well. Thus
it follows that before, she was ugly. So when it comes to women,
ugly equals wrong, and beautiful equals right, and in a sense, real.
But why is one thing beautiful and another thing not? Who says?
Ultimately, the patriarchal order. And the Smurf Village, with its
99:1 ratio of males to females, is definitely a patriarchy. This
adds to he idea of woman as commodity - she is changed and made by
men, and is beautiful by their standards. And at the end of it she
is thankful.

Gloria Steinem once wrote that 'women were history's first drag
queens', meaning that ideals of beauty are all imposed by the
patriarchal order, and there is no reason for women to look 'like
women' other than a need for distinction between the sexes, and to
reinforce the idea of women as mere objects, as the focus of male
gaze. Smurfette is no exception.

In an ideal patriarchal society, there are no women. Can you imagine
what the Smurf village would be like if the ratio of males to
females was 50:50? One thing is certain, it would not be the same
utopia it is presented as in the show. Perhaps this means that the
ideal Marxist State can only truly operate when everyone is equal,
including sexually, although it is almost impossible to imagine an
all-female Smurf Village. This is probably more due to deep,
intrinsic sexism in our own society than any other reason. If female
was the 'natural' sex for Smurfs, I cannot see why they would all
look like Smurfette. The concept of beauty, if it existed at all,
would have no basis, no frame of reference in which to be equated
with 'blonde and cute'.

4.) The Smurf Village as Homotopia:
The Smurf Village was always all-male, until Smurfette came along,
when it was still overwhelmingly male. This means that they did not
procreate by traditional means, and thus, 'heterosexuality' would
not be the norm.

Much like ancient Greek city-states such as Athens, which many
believe is the closest to a pure democracy the world will ever come,
government was by all the people, and by 'all the people' they meant
males only. Women are not invited to participate in public affairs.
In Athens, homosexuality was not uncommon, nor was it particularly
frowned upon.

No Smurf ever forms a relationship with Smurfette. Although she is
the focus of some childish heterosexual rivalries, especially
between Hefty and Handy, there is never any real heterosexual
tension in the Village. The tension is more between Hefty and Handy
themselves, who seem to be more interested in impressing each other
than Smurfette.

If the Smurf Village existed for ages without any females, how would
the Smurfs have been able to understand what the Smurfette was?
Certainly, nature would provide examples of male-female bondings
that the Smurfs would have been able to observe, but in their own
sphere, there were never any women, and never any heterosexuality.
Thus, how could Smurfette have been able to seduce anyone? Are the
creators trying to say that heterosexuality is the natural state,
even if it never existed in society and there was never any frame of
reference for understanding what heterosexual attraction was? On
this point, I'm prepared to let the creators off. They probably
weren't even thinking about it, because in our society,
heterosexuality is very much seen as the norm.

Lastly, I believe the characters of Hefty, Handy and Vanity are gay
archetypes. Vanity is the kind of gay archetype commonly presented
by the straight entertainment industry, for example in the UK sitcom
Are You Being Served? While Hefty and Handy are gay archetypes in
the same vein as the Village People, with their extremely iconic
masculinity, exaggerated to the point of camp. Meanwhile, I believe
Clumsy and Brainy represent a stereotypical gay couple.

5.) Conclusion:
I believe that at the very least, Peyo was attempting to present
certain Marxist theories in the form of an allegorical fairy tale.
The Smurfs, then, succeeds in the way the best kind of fantasy
literature does - by shining a light on the real world we all live
in. There is much evidence to suggest that The Smurfs, as a
narrative, is a utopian socialist fable. And ultimately, I think a
large part of the appeal of the show comes from this utopian ideal,
because even if it is unlikely to ever occur in the real world, with
all its complexities, we can still imagine.

---
J. Marc Schmidt was born in Sydney, Australia, in 1973, and
currently works as a teacher. He was educated at Macquarie
University in Sydney, where he majored in history.

-------------------------------------------

3. Took and developed "old time" sepia photos of tourists on
Cannery Row
By Rev. Sean C. Rothstein-Jacobson

Okay, here's a confession, don't laugh at me because I am really
trusting you here: I once was almost a hippie. I had long hair,
wore tye-dyes, went to Grateful Dead shows, hiked a lot, smoked
copious amounts of dope, and said things like "Dude that's TRIPPY!"

I say "almost" because I have never been able to fully get behind a
prefabricated image or clique- it’s always seemed totally useless
and counter-growth to me. The reason I bring this up is that during
this period of my life I was bone thin, kind of effeminate, socially
awkward and a longhair. Traits like those can lead to
misinterpretation.

The guy who ran the candle making shop next door once said "The
problem with your culture is-” Hippies?

"My culture?"

"Homosexual culture. You are gay, correct?"

I told him I wasn’t and he shrugged continuing as if I had said
nothing.

Odd. I didn't think I pitched a vibe at men, so it just felt
inexplicable... Hell, I must've just been real damn cute.

My boss was about 23 or so and a pretty quirky guy. He was a
drummer and the kind of guy you'd expect to be in a bad-pop-cover
bar band: feathered hair st shoulder length, leather jacket, 'ain't
I cool' attitude and a charm that just didn't quit. He was real
good with the tourists though, always able to make them believe they
were having a ball changing into ill fit "western" era clothing to
get their photo snapped and developed to look like it were aged
for few decades.

Over a few weeks I ascertained that he was a dope smoker so every
now and then we'd smoke dope together during work- sure made the
many "dead" hours pass a bit quicker. The only problem with getting
stoned with this guy was that everytime he'd get a good buzz on he
would start playing some song over and over and over on the box that
he'd bring into work so that he could figure out the drum lines to
it. There is no Humane excuse for subjecting someone to Journey
tunes more than once in a lifetime LET ALONE 20 MOTHERFUCKING TIMES
IN A ROW!! Well, everybody has their peculiarities I suppose...

This one day I had rolled up a fairly good-sized joint to smoke one
Wednesday (which was always a dead day) and stuck it behind my ear
for safekeeping. With my longhair it was not only invisible, but
completely secured. I came in and sat around for an hour or two
until the maddening lack of business prompted me to as him if he
wanted to partake. That went like this:

"Hey Rob?"

"Yeah?" he looks up from his copy of Rock Drummer- or some such
publication.

"You wanna close up for a bit and-" I lean in a little toward him
and pull back the hair on the side of my head to reveal the joint,
"-go upstairs?"

"Uh, what?"

"You wanna go upstairs for a bit?"

He smiles all mischievously and nervy, "Yeah... sure..."

Upstairs was where we had our darkroom and was well away from anyone
who might care that we were smoking dope, and the stench of
developing fluids would hide any scent that might be generated. As
I walk in I hear the door lock behind me. I think nothing of it,
after all, we're partaking in an illegal activity- caution is good,
don't want to be burst in on. I pull the joint out from behind my
ear and turn around. Rob is standing like six inches from my face,
I jump back from the unexpected proximity and put the doob up to my
lips a little jared.

I say, "Uhhh, so you wanna smoke this right?"

"Pot?"

"Well, yeah."

He looks at it, then at me, "...Oh yeah, sure, sure, of course!" and
suddenly his entire demeanour transforms before my eyes. He shrinks
down by inches, backs off away from me, won't make eye-contact, gets
all fidgety and stammers.

I realize that he never saw the joint downstairs, I must not have
moved enough of my hair, and it hits me: he thought I was coming on
to him, inviting him upstairs for sex or something.

Jesus, that attempt at moving my hair must have looked like some
weird pose! I feel REALLY bad because one can tell at a glance by
his reaction that he is heavily closeted and that this experience
just REALLY fucked him up. Fuck, I don't know what to say- I mean
I'm only 18 or so and its not like the topic had been verbally
broached, just obviously vibed. I feel terrible because, as we
smoke the jay in relative uncomfortable silence, I can see him
inverting on himself in terrible circles- he wanted to be with a
man, thought he was GOING to be with a man, only to discover that it
was all just a big misunderstanding... an employee of his, at that.

The experience probably added a year or two onto the time it would
take for him to come to terms with his sexuality and I stood there
mute to it. That was/is a moment that makes me feel ashamed:

I should have said something, made it into a good natured joke to
show that what he felt was okay and wasn't dirty or offensive, just
not my cup of tea.... but I didn't... and for that I have a guilt
that still continues to carve me into a more compassionate person...
we all have our peculiarities, I suppose...

---
REVSCRJ is a writer/musician living in Monterey, California.
Constantly on the verge of homelessness, he hopes that you enjoy his
work or else his life has been in vain. Contact REVSCRJ at
revscrj@cloudfactory.org to lodge complaints, notify of lawsuits, or
receive spiritual advice.
-------------------------------------------

CoN would not be possible without the great help of Scriba Org.

CoN: *** Signoff: Manji (Quit: self discovery is good, unless you
discover that your insane and WAY past due for a killing spree.)

Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine "media you can abuse"
In memory of Father Ross "Padre" Legere
Published every second Monday (or when we get around it)
Disclaimer: unintentionally offensive
Comments, queries and submissions are welcome

http://www.capnasty.org ISSN 1482-0471

A bi-weekly electronic journal. Subscriptions available at no cost
electronically.


Available on Usenet newsgroups alt.zines and alt.ezines. This
mailing is sent exclusively to those poor souls who chose to subscribe to
the Capital of Nasty mailing list.

Spread the word! If you have friends who would like to receive CoN,
ask them to send email to join@capnasty.org. If you'd like to
unsubscribe because such email aggravates your Canadian cattle intolerance,
simply send an empty message to leave@capnasty.org.

Text issues of CoN archived exclusively by Disobey www.disobey.com

Brought to you by C.C.C.P. (Collective Communist Computing Proletariat)
Leandro Asnaghi-Nicastro Colin Barrett
<leandro@capnasty.org> <tyrannis@capnasty.org>


ZimID 708EC8D1 1994/09/14 EC B0 97 59 1D FE 7C 32 7E 04 2C 66 47 41 FB 7D

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