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Doomed to Obscurity Issue 08

eZine's profile picture
Published in 
Doomed to Obscurity
 · 26 Apr 2019

  

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hide your children & lock your doors, folks. it's yet another action-packed
issue of everyone's favorite family-fun 'zine ..

$$$$$$ $$$$$$
$' $ $ $sssssssss .s%&$$$""$$&%s.
.s%&$$$$""$....$ $....$ $' $ $ `$
$......$ $::::$ $::::$ $$$$$$$$ $.....$ $.....$
$::::::$ $::::$ $::::$ $......$ $:::::$ $:::::$
$||||||$ $||||$ $||||$ $::::::$ $|||||$ $|||||$
$iiiiii$ $iiii$ $iiii$ $||||||$ $iiiii$ $iiiii$
$$$$$$$$ $!!!!$ $!!!!$ $iiiiii$ $!!!!!$ $!!!!!$
`"Y$$$$$ss$$$$$$ `"Y$$$ss$$$$$Y"' `"Y$$$$ss$$$$Y"'

"
doomed to obscurity" issue eight - released march 17th, 1996.

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(1) "
straight outta hatboro"
by - black francis

____________________________________________________________________________
| | | | you've *relentlessly* |
| | that's it, mogel. i'm | . | attacked my lifestyle |
| _____| sick & tired of all your | (@%#%# |_____ & personal |
| | _ _| stupid straight edge jokes. | |_ _`@ | _ _| beliefs & i will |
| ( o o|) i quit, you facist bastard. |(|o o %) | o o|) *NOT* put up with |
| | > |______________________________| | < | | > | it any longer! |
| | o | / | - | | O |-,------------------|
|__|____|________________________________|____|__|____|____________________|
| | | | |
| ok. i'm sorry, bF. please, | . | | OK, WHEN DO I START? |
| write for dto again. | (@%#%# | ______ |______________________|
|______________________________| |_ _`@ | | | / |
| \ (|o o %) | ( o o|) / |
| \ | < | | | > | / |
| | o | | | o | |
|________________________________|____|___|__|____|________________________|

sure, i've sold myself out. but, then again, who hasn't?

welcome back, suckers. it's time for another round with your good
buddy black francis.

THINK YOU CAN HANDLE IT?

"
don't hurt me! i'm fragile!"

I DIDN'T THINK SO, MOTHERBITCH.

anywho, let's get right down to the nitty-gritty. since mogel
*really* wanted to make a big deal about my re-joining the staff of
"
doomed to obscurity", i was going to have THE LORD JESUS CHRIST himself
guest-write the editorial for this issue but he was kind of busy so i'm just
going to grab my cat, pretend like he's THE LORD JESUS CHRIST, & slam his
paws on the keyboard.

i apologize for the inconvenience this may have caused anyone.

thanks for your understanding.

*ahem*

.. & now, a word from THE LORD JESUS CHRIST himself;

xz sdnb bsbdb nndjdjcsnderf,kmn n bn b dnx ndfdcd nnc
k MM,MAMMAKkssk,k,k,,mx,m xxm,dx mx m di dcnmnj jjj

ow. the fucker scratched me.

hmph.

ANYWAY ..

you'll have to excuse me, kids, for i've been in an extremely giddy
mood lately. lots of fantastic things have been happening in my life &
they've all had a suprisingly positive effect on me & my usually piss-poor
attitude. maybe i'll write about it if i can find the time 'cause, as you
all very well known, i am a virtual graphomaniac(1).

(1) graphomaniac - one who is crazy about writing. also see "
inside
joke".

enough about me. let's see what's new in the "
doomed to obscurity"
news department;

at the request of our anal-retentive writers, i have ceased replacing
all of their "
and"s with ampersands.

picky bastards.

also, for all you "
web-surfers" & "cyber-punks" & "idiots", the new &
improved "
doomed to obscurity" web page is up & fully functional. check it
out at : http://www.prism.net/dto/

tell 'em mike hunt sent you.

get it? mike hunt. ah-hahahaha.

no? uh. say it *really* fast. like, together. mikehunt. hahaha.
whoo, that's a good one. eh. anyway; i may be dumb, but i'm not a dweeb.
i'm just a sucker with no self-esteem.

phew. i kill me.

ok. enough of that news bullshit. let's get back to talking about
me.

my side-project music-only 'zine, "
kill your head", is currently
in it's final stages of completion. now, don't hold me to this, but if i
release it at *all*, you can expect the first issue later this month.
included are album reviews, music-related articles (this months issue has
articles on the punk "
revival" & moshing), & whatever else i can squeeze in
that seems to fit the bill.

that'll make *two* 'zines i can never finish on time.

i'm so bad.

anyway (i really need to cut down on my "
anyway"s. hey, uh, if anyone
can think up any decent replacement words <besides "
anywho">, please mail
them to the "
doomed to obscurity" correspondence address with the title
"
re : anyway". i'd be ever-so-grateful.), i've been withholding the goods
long enough. on with the zaniness!

____
___| |_ _
___| | _______
----------------------------- | | | | -----------------------------
----------------------------- | | | | | | -----------------------------
| | | | | |
(2) doomed to obscurity eight | | | | | | & all contents therein ..
| | | | | |
----------------------------- | | | | | | -----------------------------
----------------------------- |_____| |_____| -----------------------------
|___ _

1 - "
straight outta hatboro"
by - black francis
2 - "
doomed to obscurity eight & all contents therein .. "
by - black francis
3 - "
an ode to noodles"
by - black francis
4 - "
dewmed - part one"
by - james hetfield
5 - "
monumental misunderstandings throughout world history : july 14th,
1973"
by - black francis
6 - "
me three!@#%"
by - mogel
7 - "
downward blinded gluesniffer trip to hometown america"
by - eerie
8 - "
hate is a bald guy named steve"
by - shadow tao
9 - "
how to make an ansi bomb"
by - belial
10 - "
the elf says .. "
by - creed
11 - "
ascii-toons"
by - black francis
12 - "
artichoke powder - condiments ; chapter 563"
by - murmur
13 - "
FUCK YOU, HOOKER"
by - styx
14 - "
did i mention i'm a bastard?"
by - james hetfield
15 - "
a portrait of a naked chick with big tits for men, women, & children
of *all* ages to view & distribute freely."
by - black francis
16 - "
the chaos theory ; saturday, july 16"
by - eerie
17 - "
frannie's poetry corner"
by - black francis
18 - "
doomed to obscurity wacky fold-in"
by - black francis

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(3) "
an ode to noodles"
by - black francis

this is heartfully dedicated to all the noodles in the audience.

- -- ---]

noodles noodles, i love you.
you taste so damn good in my stew.
you're so delicious, i must say,
that's why i eat you every day.

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(4) "
dewmed - part one"
by - james hetfield

mogel : "
can you believe it? 6 telecom legends living in the same house?"
tao : "
if spending all our time together doesn't produce the best 'zine
ever, i dunno what will."
JH : "
why do i feel like i'm in an episode of the young ones?"
bF : "
fuck you, hetfield. cock sucking bastard."
eerie : "
trees@#$$!@#@!"

.. & so it began. the ultimate 'zine experiment. if you lock six
telecom legends in a house for infinity, they should produce hamlet, right?

- -- ---]

JH : "
i'll take this room."
mogel : "
that's my room, jamesy."
JH : "
ok. i'll take this one, then."
bF : "
fuck off. whose fucking shit do you see in there, you
retard?"
JH : "
fine. i'll take this room."
eerie : "
uhh .. that's my room, i think."
JH : "
no, eerie, you'll be sleeping in that room."
eerie : "
oh. ok."
murmur : "
do0d! that is like my room, do0d!"
eerie : "
oh. i'll take that room then."
bF : "
fuck off, jackass."
eerie : "
oh."

- -- ---]

after they settled in, they got themselves into a writing groove.

murmur : "
do0d! wanna hear my newest condiment? it's #3145 : goat
cheeze!@#"
JH : "
it sucks."
murmur : "
oh."
mogel : "
i like it, murmur."
murmur : "
do0d!"
tao : "
i just finished dto vs. the amish, part 13!"
JH : "
it sucks."
bF : "
GOD FUCKING DAMNIT, HETFIELD."

- -- ---]

as you can see, everything was perfectly normal. but, a funny thing
happened friday, october 13, 1996. murmur woke up to find eerie's head
splattered across the bathroom walls. the only clue left was a small note
that read :

"
tree this, you facist bastard@!$$#@$#@!@#$!$#!"

dto immediately had an emergency meeting.

fake scorpion : "
i dunno guys. this doesn't look good. but, what
do you expect from a society like the one we live
in? as my mentor, william b. corgan would say .. "

all (except tao) : 'THE WORLD IS A VAMPIRE .. '

bF : "
fuck you all. stop fucking looking at me like that, you
bastard cock suckers. i've been framed. i couldn't have
written that shitty note. the asshole who written that fucking
piece of shit didn't fucking use fucking words i'd use,
damnit."
JH : "
he's right. not a single swear on the entire note. but who
would frame you, bF?"
bF : "
HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW? JESUS CHRIST."

- -- ---]

so, the dto crew pillaged frannie's room for any evidence. all they
found were 215 empty beer bottles & three pixies' albums with cum stains all
over them.

murmur : "
do0d! there are no codez here!!!!"
mogel : "
hmm. we could search everyone's rooms, but this is a
family 'zine."
tao : "
yeah."
JH : "
hey, where did fake scorpion go? come to think of it, where
is eightball? he was here a while ago .. "
bF : "
fuck. we lost two more writers .. & no one is fucking
writing anymore anyway - & all those fucking shithead 908ers
never fucking stop bothering me for the new fucking dto.
FUCK IT. I QUIT."
tao : "
yeah."
murmur : "
do0d! you cant quit@#@#$!$#@! not in the middle of a
story@!#$!$!@"
bF : "
wanna bet?"

.. & with that, frannie disappeared. they found his body in the
broom closet fifteen minutes later, stacked neatly on top of eightball's &
fake scorpion's.

- -- ---]

murmur : "
do0d! now frannie can't come back & become head editor &
quit & come back & become head editor again!"
tao : "
yeah."
JH : "
don't worry. this is only a story, guys. it's not real."
tao : "
STORY??? STOP$$@#!#$ STOP THE STORY@#$!$#@"

JH just broke the realistic element of this story!

(clap, clap)

JH : "
thanks. way to go absurdity!@!#@!$@"

.. meanwhile ..

demonseed : "
eye have them right where i want them!
muahahahahha#$$#@@!!#$@!#

.. to be continued ..

- -- ---]

rattle : "hey!#@! when does everyone get to see my cameo appearance &
find out i'm really the homicidal maniac?"


next issue, rattle. next issue.

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(5) "monumental misunderstandings throughout world history : july 14th,
1973"

by - black francis

a riot which kills one, injures thirty-six, & does over eight
hundred thousand dollars in damages erupts on a golf course in orlando,
florida after british tourist nigel hornsworth compliments black tourist
jerome fisher, vacationing in the area with his wife & twelve year-old
daughter, on his "nice pair of knickers".

* source : the orlando times courier. (15 july, 1973).

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(6) "me three!@#%"
by - mogel

i fuckin' rock. that's all there really is to it.

you see, my friend, i'm a functional loser, but i still rock oh-so
much harder than YOU - & yes, i do find this to be a sad, sad world where
someone as lame & pathetic as me actually TOWERS above so many people in
just so many ways. i simply kick ass.

you know sometimes i devote my precious time actually thinking of
crazy-ass concepts for innovative t-files. things that HAVEN'T been done
before. i bet you people forget every sentence you're reading right now
holds every essence of my being. yup.

i'm supposed to be a writer & here i am, writing, & in a sick way it
blows my mind that whatever i type right here & now is going to be read by
you & others for all time. thousands upon thousands of eyes will be seeing
doomed to obscurity forever. we're the best. we're legends & we're aware
of it. do you even UNDERSTAND that kind of pressure, kid? don't you wanna
have something that is funny, intelligent, witty, well-written, & actually
SAYS something? isn't THAT the point of what we're doing? otherwise, why
bother?

so, being the omnipotent being that i am, i've i've developed a knack
for psycho-babbling about nothing in particular, & making a point of it.
this is a rant about rants. this is something pointless - & that _is_ it's
point.

wanna hear a story? i bet you do.

the other day while i was waiting for the bus i carried on a full-on
rockin' conversation with some smelly-ass, old homeless guy named "ralph" on
the street comparing humanity to a piece of lint. he was one hip
motherfucker & i'm sure if i was homeless, this is the kinda guy i'd like to
be. when you're that awesome, you can be a bum & get away with it.

i've been working on my own subculture of being a jackass. i get
some insane kick out of rubbing open wounds with total strangers & pissing
'em off. did you ever notice how people are pretty unaccepting of their
problems? say, for example, my head was a turnip. if someone made fun of
me, i'd just be like "yeah, my head is a turnip. no shit. man, were you
born this stupid or did you undergo some kind of special training? move on
with your pathetic life, bastard."
- & that'd be it. the issue would be
over with. but for some reason people can't seem to adapt to my anarchy.
go figure.

what made me this way?

i look around my room & it's filled with books all about art & film &
philosophy, but all of that stuff is hogwash to me 'cause i've twisted &
mixed everything i've ever learned & read into one big, simple mass. maybe
that's why i'm so fuckin' pheared.

okay, LET'S TALK ABOUT SOME PHEAR. TRY LOOKING AT THE AVERAGE
COMPUTER-OBSESSED NINNY. SITTING AT HOME ALL DAY IN FRONT OF HIS COMPUTER.
THOSE "HE'S EXHIBITING HIS TALENTS," FROM MOM & DAD EVENTUALLY TURN INTO
"WHEN THE HELL ARE YOU GONNA GET YOUR LEG-FACE OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE" - &
ALL YOU CAN DO IS REASSURE THEM THAT YOU ACTUALLY GIVE A RAT'S ASS ABOUT
REAL LIFE STUFF, WHILE YOU JUST BOOT UP ANOTHER MUD OR IRC OR SOME BULLSHIT
& THIS IS THE ESSENCE OF YOUR WORLD OF TELECOM, YOU SOCIALLY DEPRIVED
BASTARD. IT ALMOST MAKES ME WANT TO GO BACK TO THE IDIOT LOCAL BBS SCENE &
DOWNLOAD A "HOW TO MAKE A KICK-ASS BONG OUT OF DYNAMITE & A RED BOX" T-FILE.
TYPING IN ALL CAPS IS ELITE. I HOLD DOWN MY SHIFT KEY, I'M NOT ONE OF THOSE
CAPS LOCK PANSIES. OH, & I CAN OVERLAY EVERYTHING WITH A GRATUITOUS
COMPUTER PUNS AND SEXUAL INNUENDOS FOR SOME ATTENTION, TOO. HA HA HA!#

BUT LET'S NOT TALK ABOUT ME. LET'S TALK ABOUT YOU.

YOU DO NOTHING. YOU'RE WORTHLESS. BUT PLEASE KEEP IT UP 'CAUSE IT
JUST MAKES ME LOOK BETTER.

"hey. i can start a 'zine, too!"

starting another stupid-ass e'zine? WOW. can i touch you?!

only a select few can be as awesome as i, so please, go ahead & dream
about me, you big CYBER-STUD, you. you probably take pride in the fact that
you're the only one in your house that can set the clock on your vcr, idiot.

but we all know that no matter what - in a stupid guy's mind, he
always wins.

is this misdirected? maybe. let's just PRETEND i'm just talking to
myself instead of YOU.

sometimes when i wake up in the morning i seriously forget who i am &
it scares the shit out of me. feelin' disconnected from people makes you
sickly superior, even if it alienates you. there's a whole growing process
that takes place in the mind & eventually generic angst is consuming. you
drive yourself crazy & think yourself into a box.

"life's a big no-win situation," an old girlfriend once said to me,
"if you relax, you're not doing anything - & if i'm doing anything you're
not relaxed."


WHY SEE A PSYCHOLOGIST WHEN I CAN JUST WRITE FOR DTO? HAHAHA!#%

it's funny how i can analyse things to death in my head, making them
look mediocre & meaningless all the time, but they still mean something.

AGREE WITH ME!# YEAH, YEAH. I'LL SOAK UP SOME MORE "MOGEL, I LOVE
HOW YOU WRITE FICTION, TOO!@"
S.

DO YOU PEOPLE KNOW HOW WHAT CLEVER THOUGHT EVEN IS OR DO YOU JUST NOT
CARE? & AS LONG AS I'M YELLING, COULD SOMEONE TELL ME WHY THE HELL HASN'T
ANYONE EVER BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF ALAN FUNT OF CANDID CAMERA? WHAT A
FUCKHEAD!#

eventually, you just begin z0ning yourself out with the extremes &
the pointlessness becomes the point, over & over again. you laugh at your
failures as they pile up into a big stinkin' pile & you laugh like one crazy
idiot in a sexy-ass "we're-all-fucked-and-that's-pretty-damn-funny-in-a-
sick-way-so-let's-forget-about-if-it's-a-serious-problem-or-not-hey-pass-
the-doughnuts-hey-got-a-piece-of-gum?-i-wonder-if-i'll-ever-do-anything-but-
float-around-&-have-anything-besides-a-rad-text-file-&-an-affectionately-
named-unix-box"
type thing.

"mE t0o!#$%"

so, please, continue to shut up & let me do the talking.

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(7) "downward blinded gluesniffer trip to hometown america"
by - eerie

recommended soundtrack for this article : "sleep asylum", by uzi.

- -- ---]

ATDT 1-800-M0G-R0QS
CONNECT 19200

mogel : "dude, that chaos theory thing was pretty rad!#$ so what
are you gonna be writing now?"

eerie : "well, there's like 20 other chapters of the chaos theory
to come, man."

mogel : "great!@ great!@ but don't stop yourself from writing
stuff for dto! like, nonfiction!@ we dig your stuff!@#"

eerie : "er, yeah."
mogel : "WE LUB YEW, CANUCK!@"
eerie : "that's what they all say, yankee."

NO CARRIER

- -- ---]

LISTEN UP, JERK. WHAT FOLLOWS HERE IS UNIMPORTANT. ALRIGHT?

just finished eating broccoli soup. feeling pretty fuckin' bad.
like, if i put that portishead cd in the player, i'm gonna cry. fuck that
shit. i tell myself : "i'm way too sensitive."

then i write a couple thoughts on a piece of paper. "i'm alone & i'm
sick."
good. angst-ridden randomage. why is it that i'm so well in my
pathetic state of self-depreciation?

time for a caffeine fix. some guy told me he could get me some
amphetamines. now that would be a trip. non-stop energy. well, a couple
cups of coffee & a couple glasses of pepsi should do it for now. cheap
speed, that's what it's called.

from the day cobain said : "i hate myself & i wanna die", no one
could say it again without sounding like a dumbass.

she called up today. she's a chick i used to love more than allowed.
actually, because of her, girls make me puke now. maybe i could, like, turn
gay, but sincerely, i hardly find any guy to be attractive. of course, she
never realized she fucked me up. she never realized anything, in fact. it
could hit her in the face & she'd ask herself why it hurts so bad all of a
sudden.

so she calls up. "hello, long time no talk." i think : "great thing
it's been a long time"
& say : "hello, how's it going?" it's been the only
moment i've been a liar for the past few weeks, i swear.

we talked. i could care less about what we said. what i'm sure of
now is that i'll probably never tell her to go fuck herself in the ass with
a screwdriver, even if i want to sometimes. i sort of need her as a
balance. she's there. she serves a purpose. well, i think so.

"so what's up with you?"

me? well, i've been hyperactive sometimes & depressed other times.
wanted to kill the world, then myself, then you, then the world again. it's
pretty much a cycle, y'know? but instead of changing my moods progressively
every couple weeks, it does it at hyperspace speed, like, couple times a
day. it sure is funny.

"me? oh, i'm alright. what 'bout you?"

"i'm fine."

after a couple useless questions & answers, we hung up.

a voice in my head tells me i should smoke a joint now. it'd fix
everything. true. but like, i've got nothing to smoke. i'm gonna have to
endure naked torture in my head with no way of easing it up. wow. what a
deal.

why am i writing this to you, dto reader? why am i standing here,
with my pathetic bare naked feelings? i guess that's 'cause i know for a
fact that you've got both feet in the same shit i'm swimming - i mean
drowning in. or maybe you're not into it yet. well, i'm writing this so
you can at least know how is it. kinda stinks, kid.

i shouldn't have grown up. i'll be 21 in a couple months, y'know?
i'll be an adult everywhere in this fucking world. sorry, nausea strike.

in dto #7, at the end of my "grunge article" (the one with the long
ass title) i wrote : "whoo whoo, man. oops, nevermind, wrong article." it
was a reference to an article that i really liked by fake scorpion in an
older issue of dto. for some psyched-out reason it was suppressed, so i'm
rewriting it here. i really thought it would have been the funniest line of
my article.

tell myself i should write that novel i've been working on lately.
ha-ha-ha. impossible. too much self-censorship from the big ugly grey
thing that serves as a brain somewhere between my right ear & my left ear.
not that i can't stop it or something. it's there for a purpose : prevents
me from writing what i wrote before.

WOW. HOW POETIC.

notice how i'm not even talking about sex in this collection of
ramblings. pisses you off, eh?

preparing myself to go to sleep. like i'm gonna be able to sleep
anyway. it's not that i think too much alone in my bed or anything, like i
used to do. it's just that i'm not physically tired enough to actually
sleep.

my head needs a break, though.

i'm not a psychologist or anything. just checking out the symptoms &
if you don't wanna care, you can always kiss my french ass.

"but what's your problem, dave?"

"i'll make you guess. it starts with a 's' and ends with a 'c', a
'h', a 'i', a 'z' & a 'o'."


i told you it was unimportant, but you never listen.

- -- ---]

ATDT 1-800-M0G-R0QS
CONNECT 19200

mogel : "dude, that story you did was pretty keen!@#"
eerie : "which story?"
mogel : "you know, that story about that chick calling you up &
all .. "

eerie : "oh. yeah."
mogel : "dude, it's all good, but why do you keep writing fiction?"
eerie : "err .. 'fiction'?"
mogel : "you mean it wasn't?"
eerie : "er. yes. of course, it is. it's all untrue. at the end
the hero's gonna get smashed by a ten-wheeler!@!"

mogel : "good!@ good!@# i like violent endings! so when are you
gonna write a sequel to the punk article?"

eerie : "you fool! the punk article WAS fiction!"
mogel : "true, but it was funny!@"
eerie : "gee. er, lemme finish this article first, okay?"
mogel : "of course!@%"

NO CARRIER

- -- ---]

i don't think my mind could ever get through a sleep. it's morning
& the sun rises up. i spent the night thinking & writing that useless crap.

needed to get some fresh air. can't open the window. it's winter.
cold. i hate cold. dressed up pretty much like an eskimo. opened the door
& faced the outside.

ahh, air.

it's been a long time since i last breathed.

here am i, hot particle in the center of the universe (we're all in
the center of the universe, y'know), a voice that doesn't say anything, a
mind that can't even argue with its own self, eyes that are blinded by a
blatant morning sun - here am i, in the middle of the road, & ..

SHIT!# WHAT THE .. @$#@!

<smash>

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(8) "hate is a bald guy named steve."
by - shadow tao

"hey you! can't figure out what to do with those old golf clubs?"

bald guy in ugly pants : "yeah!"

"hey you! don't know what to do with your vegetables for tonight?"

tired homemaker : "yeah!@"

"hey you! having trouble in your relationships?"

worried boyfriend : "yes!"

"hey. we we're on a roll there. improv again and you're gone."

worried boyfriend : "jeez. you'd think for union scale .. "

"shut yer trap and say it!#"

worried boyfriend: "yeah!@#"

"HATE is america's number one selling emotion! it dices, it slices,
it makes your parents feel bad. you can use it for socks ; it even does
argyle! the power generated by one person hating is unmeasurable! it can't
be stopped!"


watch this! julienne fries!

'ka-chunk!'

crowd : "oooh!"

HATE MAKES IT GOOD.

relationship got you down? try it with HATE!#

GF's friend : "i'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is .. "
girlfriend : "YES IT _IS_!# I JUST KNOW HE HATES ME!#%BOOHOOHOO!@"
boyfriend : "ThAT's RiGhT!@ I _dO_ HATe YoU!@@$"
boyfriend : "WAAaAHAaHHHHHH!@$ <SOB> WAAaaAA!# .. "

HATE MAKES MAKES EVERYTHING _OK_!

"what about k0d3z?", you say? HAH!@ it even does k0d3z!@

housewife : "my redbox just won't work any more! i'm fed up."

HERE. HAVE SOME HATEFUL CODES.

<boop boop HATE HATE bewp beep boop>

housewife: "wow!@ thank you dto!"

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before using in any situation. hate may cause dizziness,
swelling, distrust in your fellow man, heart murmur,
callousness, palpitations, ugliness, headache or vengeful
hatred in some pre-1987 congressmen. always follow
directions on label. avoid using small children. do not
use as a liquid. carcinogenic when inhaled.

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(9) "how to make an ansi bomb"
by - belial

disclaimer : fuck the disclaimer. if you fuck up man, you must be one
stupid mother-fucker. damn. what the fuck. i'm sick of all
this shit. first issue and we already fussin' with all this
disclaimer shit. fuck that. mother-fucker, just read the
fucking article and shut your rat-fucking mouth. stupid piece
of shit.

- -- ---]

this is how you make a fucking ansi bomb. if you don't like it, then
go fuck yourself you stupid shithead. if you do it wrong, then i hope you
die, because you deserve to. dickhead.

shit your punk ass will need
----------------------------

you're going to need this list of shit. if you can't get any of it,
then you must be one fucking stupid asshole.

1 - 5 to 10 colored blocks (black [0,0] for super stealth).
2 - 2 gallons of gasoline.
3 - 20 feet of rope or twine.
4 - 15 rolls of ducktape.
5 - 1 lighter.
6 - 1 drill (cordless) with a 1/2 inch bit.
7 - 1 cork, a little bigger than the drill bit.
8 - 1 plastic jesus.

how to put the fucker together
------------------------------

this is the hard part, asshole. if you're stupid, then get out of my
fucking face. i don't have time for assholes like you. if you fuck this
part up, then you must be queer. we're making an ansi bomb - not fucking
hard. my fucking mother can make an ansi bomb and she's a fucking idiot.
if you can't follow these simple steps correctly, then go fuck yourself in
your tight ass, whore!

step 1: assembly
-----------------

all you have to do is get the colored blocks and stack them up in a
big fucking pile. then, take the ducktape and wrap it around the blocks
until they are all secure in one big happy fucking ducktape ball. you're
almost done shitface.

next, take your fucking drill and bore a big fucking hole in the top
of the ball, through the colored fucking blocks. when you have a pretty big
hole, throw the drill at a little animal and go fetch the fucking gasoline.
pour the gasoline in the hole until it is filled up. if there is any
gasoline left, drink that shit (don't leave any evidence to incriminate
yourself, stupid).

now, get the rope and the cork. put one end of the rope into the
hole, then plug the fucker up. if you haven't gotten this far, then you're
a fucking dork, deserving to be shot in the fucking brain.

give the assembly to some lamer, and if you're a fucking lamer
yourself, keep it. take the rope, the side not attached to the fucking
bomb, and hide behind some big fucking tree.

step 2: do or die!
-------------------

take your fucking lighter and light the end of the rope that you
have. (unless you're some kind of asshole, you will have the side that
isn't attached to the ansi bomb.) blow on it a little (or suck if you're
stupid).

wait a few minutes. your stupid ass probably can't comprehend this,
but it takes time for the fucking flame to reach the bomb. if you don't
hear an explosion after 20 minutes, grab the plastic jesus and pray that i
don't find out that you fucked this up, because i will find your ass and
beat the living fuck out of you. shithead. how could you have fucked this
up? any fucking moron, with any kind of goddamn intelligence, could have
done this, asshole.

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(10) "the elf says .. "
by - creed

everything is blank in here. i sit, alone, in a dark room, in a dark
house, thinking dark thoughts. this house is completely silent. my cold
fingers slam upon the keyboard as hard as they can, but they don't make a
sound. it's quiet in here. there is an elf on my shoulder.

the elf says, "how philosophical thou art!"

yeah, i'm being deep. i'm being deep because i hate being deep. i'm
being deep because everyone in this world knows that i HATE being deep, and
i just feel like saying, "FUCK YOU!"

the elf says, "ANARCHY! WE HATE THE QUEEN!"

the radio is off. normally it would be on .. it's always on .. but
it's off. it's off because i want it to be on. i have an overwhelming urge
to turn it on, but i'm not gonna do it. these urges are obviously induced
by the government, and i shall not submit to the government. everyone who
works for the government, of course, is a fascist. especially my teachers.
and i hate fascists.

the elf says, "right on, man. power to the people."

it hurts when i swallow. it hurts when i breathe. my head is
spinning, and my stomach hurts. i'm sick and loving it. i feel sad about
how i've fucked up in my life. i feel depressed about how i haven't left my house
in months. i feel guilty about musing and writing about how lonely and
misunderstood i am. and my feet are cold.

the elf says, "life's a drag."

i love myself. i am gifted with a mind that is unparalleled. i can
have emotions and ignore them, because i am strong. and i could crush you
if i wanted to, by sheer will alone. i am the most powerful man in the
universe.

the elf says, "eye phear!@#"

i want to change the world and how people think about it! i want to
lead an armada of tormented youth, fighting in a revolution for truth and
justice! i want to be remembered for centuries to come! i want to be
remembered as a god to humankind! but all through this, i want to be cool.
i want to lead my rebellious forces nonchalantly, stoically, not caring
about my own success. because i am strong.

the elf says, "hail caesar!"

i'm confused about who i am. being as brilliant and powerful as i
am, i have finally expelled myself from all of society's cheap labels. and
i hate it. finding true individuality has destroyed me .. i don't know what
to feel about certain things, because i'm not finished with creating my
personality. and i've got to be different. enlightenment is near.

the elf says, "you are a true zen master."

yes. i am gifted. i am wise. i am evil. i want to be rich. i
want to be a rock n' roll star. i want to be somebody. and i want to kill
that elf right now.

the elf sighs, and vanishes. "you fail again."

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(11) "ascii-toons"
by - black francis

here are two cartoons i did for the school newspaper in ninth grade.
they're not particularly funny, but, i thought they would translate nicely
to "ascii-toon" form.

enjoy.

- -- ---]

"the drunk : part one"

____________________________________________________________________________
| | oh, don't even | | | you're drunk off | |
| eeeeee | THINK i'm gonna | dddddd | eeeeee | your ASS & your | |
| EE | | let you drive | | DD | EE | | reaction time | |
| e oo|_ | home in your | _|x@ d | e oo|_ | becomes GREATLY | |
| ( ___| | condition! | |_ ) | ( ___| | impaired when | |
| | | /`-----------------' |_ | | | | __| intoxicated. | |
| | |___ | | | | |___ `--------------------' |
|__|____|_______________________|____|__|__|____|__________________________|
| | now, if somebody or | | | |
| eeeeee | something were to | | dddddd | eeeeee dddddd |
| EE | | suddenly JUMP out in | | | DD | EE | | DD |
| e oo|_ | front of your car, | | _|x@ d | e oo|_ _|x@ d |
| ( ___| | you wouldn't be able | | |_ ) | ( _| |_ ) |
| | | __| to stop! | | |_ | | | _| |_ | |
| | |___ `----------------------' | | | | | | | | |
|__|____|___________________________|____|____|____|__|____|_______|____|__|
| | | |
| eeeeee dddddd | eeeeee dddddd | eeeeee dddddd |
| EE | | DD | EE | | DD | EE | | DD |
| e oo|_ _|x@ d | e --|_ _|x@ d | e oo|_ _|x@ d |
| ( _| |_ ) | ( _| |_ ) | ( _| |_ ) |
| | _| |_ | | | _| |_ | | | _| |_ | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|__|____|________|____|__|__|____|________|____|__|__|____|________|____|__|
| | | | | |
| eeeeee dddddd | eeeeee dddddd | | hey, that | dddddd |
| EE | | DD | EE | | DD | | is a lie! | | DD |
| e oo|_ _|x@ d | e oo|_ _|x@ d | |___________| _|x@ d |
| ( _| |_ ) | ( _| |_ ) | \ |___ ) |
| | _| |_ | | | _| |_ | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | ___| | |
|__|____|________|____|__|__|____|________|____|__|________________|____|__|

- -- ---]

"the drunk : part two"

____________________________________________________________________________
| | you know, that's | | | | you used to be my |
| eeeeee | it, lenny. that's | | mm-hm. | eeeeee | BEST friend, but |
| EE | | the LAST straw. i | |________| EE | | now you're just |
| e oo|_ | cannot STAND it | \ | e oo|_ | DRUNK all the damn |
| ( ___| | when you're like | \ | ( ___| | time, passed out |
| | | __| this! | | | | __| in my bath tub. |
| | |___ `--------------------' | | |___ `--------------------|
|__|____|__________________________________|__|____|_______________________|
| | you've become a | | | | like .. like NOW, |
| eeeeee | MONSTER, totally | | mm-hm. | eeeeee | lenny. now would |
| EE | | oblivious to | |________| EE | | be the PERFECT |
| e oo|_ | everyone & | \ | e oo|_ | example of what i'm |
| ( ___| | everything around | \ | ( ___| | talking about! |
| | | __| you! | | | | /`---------------------|
| | |___ `-------------------' | | |___ |
|__|____|_________________________________|__|____|________________________|
| | | | | . ~ . |
| eeeeee | YOUR HEAD IS ON FIRE & | | you know, i thought | )\)\)\ |
| EE | | YOU DON'T EVEN REALIZE | | that you, of all | / ) |
| e oo|_ | IT, FOR CRISSAKES! | | people, would be above | ( x@ \ |
| ( ___| |________________________| | such childish pranks. | \___ ) |
| | | / |________________________|__ | | |
| | |___ ___| | |
|__|____|__________________________________________________________|____|__|

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(12) "artichoke powder - condiments ; chapter 563"
by - murmur

i should brought nother shirt, this one wrinkle. hueh. oh, things
terrible. can not .. imagine. hungry. aaahhh. i am wake. there oh go.
you can hit sign, yep. too cold they, man. bastard. you so into you too.
banana tasty, pants grease. buy shirt, be back or soon. yah, here is
tricky. go not fish, like taco. scuse, gron. snore. we may have eat
junaid.

moral : avoid the vietnamese.

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(13) "FUCK YOU, HOOKER"
by - styx

sucker was a quiet boy. he liked to play his nintendo and watch
wrestling. in school he pretended he worshipped satan so people would leave
him alone - not that he wanted to be left alone, he just didn't know how
to interact with people. sucker took up the drums so he wouldn't have to
take his physical education classes. it was senior year. he just wanted
out.

one day, sucker was removing his black trench coat from his locker
and cuntlick approached. cuntlick was the only girl in school that would
talk to him. he didn't know why. they didn't have anything in common, yet
he somehow felt he could relate to her. it was one of those there's-
something-there-but-i'm-not-too-sure-what-it-is type things. he never
experienced that before, and secretly delighted in cuntlick's over
friendliness.

"whatcha doin', sucker?"

"FUCK YOU, CUNTLICK."

"hehe. you're so WEIRD! say, wanna catch a movie after school?"

"I CAN SMELL YOUR SLOPPY SLOT FROM HERE. UNCLEANLY BITCH."

"just pick me up at 4:00, okay? i have something to show you!"

he got home at 3:15, roughly, everyday. fulfilling his post-school
ritual, he vigorously played tetris for a half hour. his mother entered the
room along with a serving of grilled cheese at an exceptionally intense part
of the game. he did several strange things that made her feel emotionally
uncomfortable and she left quickly.

he arrived at cuntlick's modest house at 3:58. cracked paint, small
porch, rocking chairs.. the whole bible-belt-thang. he knocked on the door
and cuntlick's mother answered.

"oh, sucker! she'll be right with you. one moment."

"YOUR DAUGHTER IS A STUPID HOOKER."

she giggled and left to fetch her.

sucker waited patiently in the foyer. he had never been in any other
part of the house. it was like some forbidden zone. he wondered what
amazing things could possibly exist beyond. altars? unusual pets?
antiques? his curiosity got the best of him, and as he was about to proceed
further into the house o'secrets, cuntlick arrived.

"wait 'til you see this, sucker! you'll absolutely ADORE it! let's
get in the car."


she grabbed his arm and practically dragged him down the driveway.
he repeatedly spat at her face but he kept missing and she wasn't paying
enough attention to notice. upon entering the car there was an awkward
silence. sucker felt he should say something.

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SHOW ME. YOU MAKE ME ILL.
YOU NEED SOME HYPER-POWERED DOUCHE SHIT 'CAUSE YOU'RE SKANKING UP MY CAR."


"you have such a way with words," she giggled. "listen, sucker, i
know this isn't much but i don't have a job right now so i couldn't afford
the REAL thing. anyway, i hope you like it."
she trembled with
anticipation as she handed over a matchbox-car replica of a yellow corvette.
the kind of car he had always dreamed of one day getting.

"WILL YOU PLEASE JUST CLOSE YOUR LEGS? I'M SERIOUS, WHORE."

he started the car, threw it in gear, and slammed down on the gas
pedal. with a shudder, the junker plowed down the road headed for the local
movie theater.

"so, what do you want to see? i hear that _life is great and i love
you_ is excellent and i've wanted to see it for a while. my parents watched
it last week. bobby and i were going to see it once but we ended up just
hanging out at his place."


sucker winced at the name of her ex-boyfriend. "why must she
constantly mention him?"
he thought. "does she think i really want to hear
about him? what, exactly, is wrong with her?"
he abruptly replied.

"WELL I WANT TO SEE _CHICK WITH A PLUNGER STUCK UP HER SNATCH_ AND IF
YOU DON'T LIKE IT I'LL DRIVE RIGHT INTO THAT TRUCK AND END YOUR MISERABLE
LIFE."


"um. i have something to tell you, sucker."

he stared lazily at the road ahead of him and appeared to be
oblivious, but she continued ..

"listen. i've been talking to your cousin steve a lot. we hit it
off pretty well. i slept with him last night."


sucker was astonished. "what?"

"he's a nice guy. i also slept with your dad."

"my dad?! why? who else?" sucker was struggling to control the
vehicle.

"well, let me think. steve, your dad.. um. oh yeah. our english
teacher .. and your dog .. and that guy in 7-11 all the time."


sucker just drove, completely dazed. how could she do this? she
knew he liked her. after all, she's the only girl in the whole school he
talked to at all and she knew that. how could she not know?! it's so
obvious! why did she even ask him to the movies? what is wrong with her?!
his lack of concentration caused him to run a red light, and before long he
noticed the red and blue flashing lights behind him. sucker pulled over.
the cop approached ..

"do you know why i'm stopping you?"

"yes."

"why?"

"i ran the red light."

"that's right. may i ask why you ra.." the cop stumbled over his
words as his eyes met cuntlick's. "er.. hi there." he hesitated. "listen,
i'll let you guys off with a warning. i suggest you pay closer attention to
the road, okay?"


sucker, perplexed, nodded his head. the cop wandered back to his
car.

"i slept with the entire police force, too," cuntlick explained.

sucker couldn't bear it any longer. "but.. you know i like you! why
are you telling me all of this? why did you do it? is there something
wrong with me? don't you know i care about you? for goodness sake,
cuntlick, it's not like i interact with any other girls! you know that! i
just don't understand. what is wrong with you?"


cuntlick wasn't too sure what to say. she knew he liked her, but
there wasn't any commitment. nothing was ever discussed. technically, she
did nothing wrong and he had no place to even ask about it. she was
confused.

"YOU FUCKING PINDICK PIECE OF SHIT. I ONLY HANG WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU
HAVE A CAR AND YOU CAN BUY ME CIGARETTES. YOU DON'T MEAN A THING TO ME.
YOU'RE A SOCIAL REJECT BASTARD. FUCK YOU."


by the look on sucker's face, she hit home. he started shaking and
his face was flushed. "how could you say that to me? cuntlick, i think i
lo.."


she interrupted. "YOU PUSSY-WHIPPED PARASITIC COCKSUCKER. SHUT UP."

"i think i love you," he blurted in a fit of blind frustration.

cuntlick was startled. it wasn't like sucker to let his guard down.
does he really mean it? maybe, deep down inside, there's a kind and caring
young man struggling to burst through the surface of an emotionally scarred
shell. what if she could bring him out? what a challenge! what an
achievement if she could pull it off! the thought of saving such a tortured
person as he consumed her like a spreading fire. she had been wrong all
along. now was the perfect time to make up for her mistakes.

"oh, sucker, i had no idea!" she couldn't believe it. "are you
being serious?"


sucker was looking down, his hair covering his face. he was gripping
the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white. he looked much
like a cornered and scared animal. he timidly attempted a reply.

"yes."

"i'm so sorry! oh, i think i feel the same way about you! i just
never gave it a chance in my head, you know? but now! oh, sucker!"


she flung herself across the front seat and wrapped her arms around
his shoulders. with a swift movement, sucker slammed her in the teeth with
his elbow and sent her sprawling to the other side of the car. cuntlick's
eyes widened in fear and pain and she clutched her mouth with her hands.
sucker put the car in gear and slammed down on the gas pedal.

"HAHA. JUST KIDDING. FUCK YOU, HOOKER."

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(14) "did i mention i'm a bastard?"
by - james hetfield

only in insanity can you possibly find answers. without evil, there
is no good. and only in the shadows is it possible to see the truth.

i, james hetfield, am a bastard. ask anyone ..

atdt1-847-998-0008
connect 28800
welcome to gtalk, detecting ansi.
[ansi detected]
user id: 427
password: ...........
[minor co-sysop login]
no new email .. loser.

--> connect (main) at 00:00:01
--> #427:<james hetfield>
#03:<veggie> bastard.
#04:<spooky kid) teenage social urges ..
#05:{} com {/m469} if you don't like it, don't call.
#03:<veggie> you, scott, are a bastard.

- -- ---]

plenty of people know i'm a bastard. especially me.

now here's the problem ; deep down inside of me, i think there's some
kind of silver lining, that makes me some kind of messiah or great good
person simply acting angstful.

#03:<veggie> bastard.

what makes me think that i have some kind of good in me, compared to
all the evil i do to each and every person day by day? by all that i use
everyone for, night after night?

#04:<spooky kid) teenage social urges ..

memories haunt every move i make. i'm supposed to be your friend.
i'm supposed to be there for you. am i there for you? am i your friend?
or have i become something too twisted, something that i cannot ever return
from? is my mind so processed and packaged that never again will i be able
to console another human being that i am not getting sex from?

yeah, rachel loves me.

but i don't know how to love her.

i do many things to make her feel better, physically, mentally,
emotionally, socially, whatever. i try my best. but is it because i love
her, or because i want her to love me? is it a selfish thing i'm doing, or
do i truly care about another human being? can i truly care about another
human being?

save me, dr. ruth.

what gives me the power to condemn and yet judge people for every
single action they take? why have i deemed myself the freedom fighter for
every underdog i meet, and the aggravator of every conflict i walk into?
something inside of me dictates that people need to know what i think. so i
write. i argue. i communicate. but is it effective at all?

no matter what i do, you will be you.

i want to change you. i want to make you, if not into me, into
something you're not. i don't care who you are now, i only care what you're
going to be. i want to live my life through each and every one of you.

remind me that all i do is sit around in an empty basement all night,
talking on a chat bbs, why don't you. remind me that my mother and father
are right, and that i'm wrong, i'm a stupid rebelling teenager that will
never understand their reasoning. but i do understand their reasoning. and
i don't listen.

i almost typed i don't care, but those are the three most misused
words in the english language.

#11:[nora) i don't care and there's nothing you can do to make me change.

maybe that's what i fear the most. people who are themselves. i'm
afraid of someone who actually is going to stay the way they are for the
rest of their lives, no matter how frayed or scarred they are. because my
worst fear is being this way all my life.

it would be a life not worth going through.

i have got to be the most motivated person you'll ever see that never
uses that motivation to good use. i have ideas in my head, baby, and i'm
ready and willing to use them. if i had my way, dto would already be big
time, babycakes. we'd rule the world. but, progress takes time, and my
mind goes too fast for progress. and bureaucracy takes time, and i, sadly,
believe i'm a free thinker. i'd be a damn fine dictator.

#05:{} com {/m469} you have a jaded sense of reality, scoot.

i don't think anyone ever explained to me the concept of friendship.
i'm about as good of keeping "lifelong" friends as i am at writing happy
children's books. (sidenote: i suck at it.) the joels, the steves, they
go away. they start lives away from me. is it my fault? "of course not.
people drift apart."
but does my concept of my friendship with them have
something to do with the fact that i am a total leech and use someone to
their utmost usage without considering their feelings and their needs? "oh.
uhm."
yeah. exactly.

did i mention i'm a bastard?

i bet you're saying this is real morbid. real angsty.

#04:<spooky kid) it's goth.

yeah. goth. well, i don't care what anyone says. i'm fucked up,
and there's no changing that. so put back your crosses and your nails,
there's no crucifixions tonight. just a regular bastard finishing up a
really bad text file with a really stupid conclusion.

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(15) "a portrait of a naked chick with big tits for men, women, & children
of *all* ages to view & distribute freely."

by - black francis

in honor of the newly enacted telecommunications decency act of '96,
i bring to you; a portrait of a naked chick with big tits for men, women, &
children of *all* ages to view & distribute freely.

you're welcome.

- -- ---]


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(psst. many thanks to pip the angry youth & "gasp" #11 for supplying
the naked chick with big tits.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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(16) "the chaos theory ; saturday, july 16"
by - eerie

woke up at about eleven am, sweating because the heat was still as
dreadful. alone. no one else in the apartment. there was dried sperm on
my belly. got out of bed, went to the kitchen where I found a message by
her.

"be back at noon, if you're hungry serve yourself, annie xx"

took a shower to be cleansed & mostly to just cool down. stayed only
for five minutes, because i didn't know if water was included in the rent.

reclothed myself, jeans & t-shirt, & moved to the kitchen another
time to eat something like she offered me. didn't abuse, ate three pieces
of toast spread with three-fruit marmalade. there was a scientific magazine
on the table, opened on an article about astronomy saying "did we finally
discover the missing mass of the universe?" having nothing better to do, i
read it diagonally, turning the pages quickly & paying more attention to the
pictures than to the text itself. then the article finished on an
advertisement for a telescope.

while my third toast was toasting, i discovered, in this same
magazine, an article entitled "clearing up schizophrenia." the toast wasn't
ready yet, so i started reading it.

"we know very little about schizophrenia, that incurable disease,
else than statistics & percentages. however, the late scientific
developments about it tend to demonstrate the evidence of the fact that one
of its causes is hidden in the genes."

got cut short by the noise of the toaster spring. took my toast.
read on.

"this disease hits one person out of a hundred - in comparison,
cystic diseases or parkinson only affect one person out of a thousand - &
most especially young adults between 15 & 35, with no distinction based on
sex or social status. with the first schizophrenia crisis, all their life
topples down. how could you live a normal affective, familial & social life
when you are occupied with hallucinations & delirium, & particularly when
apathy, retirement within self, disorganization & impoverishment of thought,
blunting of emotions or depression isolates you into an unfathomable world?"

"you can't heal from this disease. excepted from 20 to 25% of the
cases that completely recover from a first schizophrenic episode & go back
to a normal life, the rest remain dependent on medication for all their
life. it is not wondered at, that 10 to 15% of schizophrenics attempt
suicide."

stopped eating. my eyes were fixed to the article. i don't know
just exactly why, but since then i'm sure i am a future schizo. i mean, one
person out of a hundred, that's what the magazine said. i could easily be
the "person out of a hundred." since no one is it. no one that i know,
that is.

i had predilections, that's a fact. with my two or three badly
hidden emotional crisis every month, i knew for long there was something
wrong & incurable with my brain. that was it, of course. i've been okay
for too long. it would be my future, my impossible life.

on the counter i caught sight of a couple magazines, scientific or
not, all with something in common : they all featured something about
schizophrenia. i turned over the pages & my panic increased. while
reading, i started planning my future according to that new reality. i was
gonna have my first real crisis sooner or later. i had to do everything,
create everything _before_, so i could get crazy as i please. i was afraid,
but at the same time was accepting that idea that always inhabited me ; one
day, i'd fall into mental disease. it was the thing i feared the most. one
day i read somewhere what the thing you fear will most likely happen to you
than something you don't fear. maybe it's false, but in my opinion the
things you run away from always tend to get back to you.

i had to realize my ultimate work until that time, quick.

annie entered the apartment. i faked a smile, so did she.

"went walking outside. it's even hotter today."

"uh-huh."

she was dressed simply, wide blue jeans & the same striped shirt she
had the day before - the same sandals, too. she looked more serene, too.

"you ate?"

"yeah."

"you don't seem to look right."

"i'm okay. i just woke up, that's all."

"oh."

she remained silent for five seconds.

"forget everything i could have said yesterday."

"yes, of course. if you want so."

"please," she insisted.

"don't worry."

i sat on her bed & pulled on my shoes.

"you're going already?"

"think so, yeah. i must - go back to my place." silence. "can i
see you again?"

"of course. the door's always open. come whenever. it - it'll be
someone to talk to, y'know .. "

i delicately caressed her hair & smiled.

then i took the bus, where i met melanie. sat near her after she
said hello to me.

"hello."

"i'm having pretty encounters in the bus. how are you doing, miss?"

she looked flattered.

"not too bad at all."

she replaced a lock of her hair, beautiful red, long hair, moved by
the draught coming from the window.

"you?"

"usual."

"it's been long since you told me, like, 'i'm going well, melanie.'
do i have to conclude that you don't feel anything anymore?"

"uh, i dunno. there was yesterday. yesterday i was - "

i retained myself for a moment.

"i was feeling alright."

"really? cool. but that's not happening all the time, right?"

"you can't have it all. why, you're happy 24 hours a day?"

"not really, let's say 20 hours a day."

she laughed, & i laughed too. the convo was getting cheesy.

"& the rest of the time?"

she did as if she never got asked.

"how's your girlfriend doing?"

"she's doing alright."

"i didn't even know if you were still with her. well, is it the same
one? cynthia?"

"yes, always, forever."

"you talk like it's a burden." she smiled.

i was getting near my place, so i rang the bell. said bye, specified
that we could talk about that another day. left the bus, & entered the 369,
67th street, second floor, apartment #5. the door wasn't locked.

i said "hello" to whoever, & got an answer from cynthia, who was
watching tv in the kitchen.

"you're late."

it was 25 past noon. she appeared in the corridor.

"you could have called up."

"i'm sorry. where i slept over they don't own a phone."

"where did you sleep over?"

wasn't looking at her, was changing t-shirts in the bedroom. i
talked with a tired tone.

"you're not my mom."

she didn't answer.

"you know, i passed beyond the oedipus complex. i don't need to see
my mom through my girlfriends anymore."

she spoke calmly.

"alright, it's okay. i don't have to know where you slept over. but
i'd like it if you could tell me when you spend the night elsewhere."

"i know .. "

i fixed my eyes on hers & said "come here." i kissed her & made her
fall on the bed, & her mouth made a high-pitched squeal.

"i'd like to get rid of that stupid discussion."

"uh-huh."

it ended up with a fuck, with as a soundtrack the tv news & the
weather forecasts : hot, muggy weather for the full next week.

- -- ---]

note: the article quoted in this chapter is translated from parts of
"elucider la schizophrenie", by diane dontigny, released in "contact",
spring-summer edition, 1994. never asked permission to use this article, &
i hope they won't mind.

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

(17) "frannie's poetry corner"
by - black francis

"there will never be another day"
---------------------------------

there will never be another day
that you will spend with me
BUT THAT'S OK BECAUSE YOU'RE A BITCH ANYWAY, YOU WHORE.

- -- ---]

"everything"
------------

i give you everything you want
i say the words you long to hear
when you need my help i lend a hand
when you need to talk i lend an ear
BUT YOU STILL WON'T RETURN MY PHONE CALLS, YOU FUCKING HEARTLESS CUNT.

so, the concept's been beaten into the ground as it is. who cares?
it's still fuckin' funny.

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

(18) "doomed to obscurity wacky fold-in"
by - black francis

if you don't know how these things work, you should really get out
more.

____________________________________________________________________________
|
q : what do i think |
you should do? |
____________________|

a > < b
_______ _______
____ | o o| i |o o |
___| |_ | _ | ( ) | _ | ________
| | |_____| / |_____| | |
| | | |____/ | | | |
| | | || ||| | | |
| | | || ||| | ___|
| | | || ||| | | |
| | | || ||| | | |
|_____|_ ( | ______________________________________________ ( | ) _|_____|
| |
___|___ ___|___

____
___| |_ _
___| | _______
| | | |
| | | | | |
----------------------------- | | | | | | -----------------------------
----------------------------- | | | | | | -----------------------------
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
|_____| |_____|
|___ _

please direct all dto correspondence towards - doomed@voicenet.com
call that stupid place - doomed to obscurity's bbs system - 215-985-0462
to get on the dto mailing list - send mail to dto@prism.net with
the body of the message saying "subscribe dto".

(c) copyright 1996 doomed to obscurity productions - all rights reserved.

"better living through sheer idiocy & a whole lot of free time."

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