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CLiT #12: Can You Say Coup?
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...episode XII... :: _Can You Say Coup?_
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"Crashing Da Party"
by AlterEcho
Before Noah illegally parked his ark on the top of Mt. Sinai, he sent out a
pair of doves to search of sour gummi bears, of which their supplies had run
low, but all the birds came back with was an olive branch, with which Mrs.
Noah made extra virgin olive oil and Noah whupped his three young sons, whom
he busted becoming a little too close to the animals, if you know what I
mean.
I can say coo.
The second last book I remember my dad buying for me was an autobiography of
Magic Johnson, and one of my favourite players for the Lakers was Michael
Cooper because he was really, really black and played kickass defence, and he
had lots of great sex with his wife.
I can say coop.
When I was just a little AlterEcho, my cousin had a Nissan NX Coupe and I
thought that was the great car ever, it was maroon and pretty darn sexy, and
because I wanted one, I asked my cousin if I could buy it from him and he
said sure, how much would I be willing to pay, and I said around five
dollars, and he said fine, but then my dad wouldn't let me borrow five
dollars from him and the next time I had five dollars I asked my cousin for
the keys but he said he'd sold the car to someone else.
I can say coupe.
Right after we released CLiT #11, bloody Abyss sent me some more writing, but
she sent them as word documents which are gay so I made her change them to a
text phile and when she sent it again I realised it was really, really long
and hence her verbosity has completely fucked up my episode structures and
has almost thrown me completely.
I can say coup.
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"GET OUT!" by Abyss.
::begin rant::
People who refuse to see that their quality of life CAN improve, but go
around saying "Oh, I'm a realist, I'll always be oppressed and shunted, blah,
blah, blah" fucking shit me. Not because of you, you might well be a realist,
but I have had the special burden of having a fucking hypochondriacally-
inclined idiot as a best friend since I was 6, and I can't shake her,
because, funnily enough, her happiness depends on me. How fucking perfect.
The reason, however, of exactly why she pisses me off, is what I will now
try to convey.
"Anita" and I found out at the same time that she is afflicted with bi-polar
disorder. Manic depressive. So, in her down periods, she's down. She slashes
herself. She's really depressed. When she's up, she's flighty and excited and
snaps at people, and nosedives when her grabs at genius don't succeed
straight away. But it's when she's level that she really shits me. And I'll
tell you why - it's because she goes around acting like she's so woefully
wronged. I'd say it's more like karma's finally booted her one up the ass!
This bitch is petty and envious and deceitful, beyond that of a regular
person. Any beauty she sees, manufactured (i.e. anorexic models), or natural
(i.e. little kids), she either tries to measure up to with the knowledge that
she will fail (the former), or she tries to crush (the latter). It's not that
she neglects to see the positives of her life; it's that she FLAT. OUT.
REFUSES. TO.
She refused medication at first, which is understandable - who wants to be
put onto mind-altering drugs? (Dickwits, if there's nothing wrong with you...
or maybe if there is something wrong with you.) But eventually, she did agree
to take a limited dosage. But when it didn't "work" - that is, when she
wasn't transformed overnight into a normal, happy, sexy, intelligent, slim,
beautiful, rich, white, balanced, popular, soulful, accepted child of the
future - she stopped taking the medication. She told the FREE service that
the Hospital & University provides that she "lost" it, told her friends that
it worked and she wouldn't need it anymore, and told ME that it didn't work
so she wouldn't try anymore. Of course it didn't fucking "work"! She was
taking about a fifth of what she would need for it to have any major affect
whatsoever!
Her apathy makes my blood fucking curdle.
Is it her fault that she acts like this? After all, she is burdened by a
mental illness. Is it right, or fair that I judge her based on her actions,
when those actions are confirmed as affected? No. Should I dismiss or leave
her because of this? No. Should I reclaim my life and freedom by letting her
do her own dirty work and not using me as a punching bag? Yes.
But what am I to _do_ about it? I could try to shake her off and be free of
her forever, or I could try to encourage any li'l rays of sunshine that she
may be repressing to come a-shinin' through. Normally this question wouldn't
even exist in my mind, but after so many years, and a chronic illness of my
own to deal with I've realized (finally!), that life is just too damn short
to waste on bitching and moping about what you DON'T have. Shit, if you wanna
be an actor - go to acting classes, start showing up to every audition you
can find; from plays to dog food commercials, even start your own street
theatre group with a bunch of your more daring friends. You wanna be a
musician? Get an instrument and -=practice=-. Throw yourself into what you
love, and don't be apathetic about it. Don't not care, or be uninterested.
Don't hide behind bullshit excuses, either. "I don't have any interesting
friends," "I don't have any money," "I don't have the time," "I'll never make
it anyway." If you want something bad enough - you'll find a way. Do it, get
it, fix it, use it, run it, deal with it, ditch it, get over it, get used to
it, reject it, give up on it, dream it, feel it, sing it, write it, create
it, give to it, jump to it, come through it, hope for it, take to it, run
over it, leave it, see it, trust in it, live it, make it, wipe it, forsake
it, skip it, love it!
It takes courage, man, but get out there and try your luck. What's the worst
that can happen? You die? Fuck that, at least you went out trying!
You're alive, and you'll only ever be alive ONCE. I don't give a shit if you
believe in re-incarnation, because that's an excuse to bugger around. If you
do die tomorrow, and you go up to Heaven and ask to come back down - St.
Peter at the gates could very well bring up your file in his pocket organizer
and knock you the hell back because he knows all you ever did the first time
'round was waste time. Why the hell would he give you a second chance? Would
*you*, if you had to make that decision? You can loll about for ETERNITY in
Heaven doing nothing - for Chrissakes do something worthwhile while you're on
earth. He could send back someone who was going to use the time to his or her
advantage instead of your lazy ass.
For you own sake do what you want to do to make yourself happy - bar going on
a killing spree, that is. Your future is in your own hands, and it's up to
you to do something with it. No one else can live your life for you, or know
exactly what you know, or feel exactly how you do, or be exactly who you are.
Does this sound like it's coming from a self-help book? Good. Maybe that's
what poeple like Anita need. Then again, she's too fucking cynical to take
any of it in. "Oh, that would never work", "It's just marketing", "I'm not
that kind of person", "Wake up, Abyss, real life isn't like that."
What a fucking cop-out!
You are -=*ALIVE*=-! How DARE you waste it! Even if you suck ass at what
you're doing, if you keep at it, it's a proven that you'll get much fucking
better. Being alive is the highest privilege you'll ever receive, and it's
something to be treasured and experienced to the fullest extent. Paint, draw,
sing, write, design, sew, knit, craft, build, dance, act, cook, download,
sculpt, film, find, photograph, style, video, produce, etc. Do something! Do
ANYTHING! Or, if you're not going to - stay the fuck away from me. I've had
it up to here with lazy, apathetic bastards like you.
Anita, you can kiss my ass, because I'm sick of trying to solve your problems
for you, when all you do is knock it all back in my face. I'm sick of hauling
around your emotional baggage, trying to help you lighten the load. I'm sick
of being your crutch. I'm sick of wasting my time, thinking of new things to
do that you'll actually agree to, since all you want to do anyway is anything
that excludes exerting any kind of energy.
And you wonder why you're fat! Maybe if you actually READ a fucking BOOK on
nutrition, you'd know that pasta and beans AREN'T fattening, but all that
junk food you binge on IS! And that you're actually beautiful, despite it!
You're one of the most physically beautiful people I know - in fact, you ARE
the most physically beautiful person I know. Yet all you ever seem to do is
moan and bitch about what you haven't got! Fuck! You've got two, healthy,
loving, working parents! You're working hard and succeeding at getting good
grades! You've *always* got the latest whatever that comes on the market!
You have enough time and money to study piano, dancing, singing, acting, and
gymnastics! AND you're in a fucking play!
How DARE you waste MY time with your SHIT when you have so much to live for
and explore?! How DARE you fuck me around and make ME feel like shit when
YOU'RE the one with the self-esteem problems? I've been at your side for over
a DECADE! Going to ridiculous lengths to be your friend! Fuck, I was
clinically depressed too! For seven years, baby! Did you notice? NO! And now
I'm trying to move on. I am not your sidekick, punching bag, errand girl, or
worshipping subject. Furthermore, you are not a realist - you are a
pessimist. You don't have any tendency towards practicality or sensibility,
nor do you see things the way they really are. Neither do you portray
anything as it is to real life or fact. You are cynical and malevolent. A
malignant cancer. Which, funnily enough, is something I've beaten once
before. Something you didn't give a fuck about either. Yet you have the
audacity to come down on me for being slightly, maybe a little bit, kinda,
sort of, fed up with the crap you dish out, when wanting a minute alone with
my ::insert whatever::
You need examples? I got examples:
1. You start to dig a new something, and I take the time to find out
about it, from a shitload of sources, so I can talk to you and actually know
what you're on about.
I show even minor interest in something, and you'll dismiss it, talk over the
top of me, or completely put me down and attempt to correct me.
2. You find out, *from professionals you went to for help*, that you
have bi-polar disorder, and then you backstab them for trying to help you
improve your quality of life. You whinge and complain about how you've been
struck down in the prime of your youth, and how unfair it all is - but, oh
well, you knew you'd never make it anyway. You piss and shit on everybody
else who just happens to be having a bad day with your own problems, as
though in some delusional pissing contest.
*I* get fucking Chronic Fatigue Syndrome - an illness that basically means
I've worn out my body. I've pushed myself too far in trying to be there on
time, show up to places, finish things for other people, live life - and now
my body's saying that it's got nothing left to give me. No support, no back
up systems, no extra something, no hidden stash, no Scooby snacks, not
anything left. If the doctors hadn't picked up on it -
*I*. *Would*. *Have*. *Died*.
And I don't receive a turn of your heavily make-upped head.
Does that, in any way, affect you?
At all?
A little about me:
If I don't compulsively read labels and be acutely aware of what I'm eating,
I could digest something that my body just can't handle at the moment, and
I'll destroy any energy I may have. If I don't watch how much I move around
in a day, and I over-do it, I'll destroy any energy I may have. If I don't
stop and think about MY well-being, and what it means that a paper cut hasn't
completely healed up since 5 days ago, I could seriously relapse into not
being able to move my body, and being so tired that after sleeping for 16
hours straight, I'm still exhausted. Yet you STILL rob me of any pleasure in
life there is to be had, by viciously exploiting my friendship. So, Anita,
how _dare_ you waste the precious little time I have left with _your_ life,
when you don't give a shit about me? You fucking arrogant, uncaring, selfish,
misanthropic, dishonest, misleading, ego-centric, repulsive, petty, mealy-
mouthed, envious, misjudging, foolish, aggressive, mentally-defective,
ignorant moron. You have your life, and for 11 years you've been taking mine
as well. You absolute and complete waste of space. Stay away from my family,
stay away from my friends, stay away from where I hang out, and stay the fuck
away from me.
And, hey! YOU! What're you lookin' at??
::AlterEcho stares::
Yeah, what of it, punk ass?!
Man, ...I really need to chill. I'm so volatile lately.
::digresses::
Abyss.
==Success==
To laugh often and much,
To win the respect of intelligent people,
And the affection of children.
To earn the appreciation of honest critics
To endure the betrayal of false friends,
To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others,
To leave the world a bit better,
Whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch,
or a redeemed social condition.
To know even one life has breathed easier because you lived,
This is to have succeeded.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Credits: Anthea Paul - you rock, woman. :)
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"Critique Thingy"
by Aerialisticish
wow
that was long
and angry
im surprised youve put up with her for so long
but then again we cant all be heartless bastards
cos then i wouldnt be as cool
anyways, keep it up! so your giant articles can
fill the gaps left by my cynical and meager contributions
(fuck proper punctuation , btw)
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"Another Critique"
by AlterEcho
Well, I don't know. Was it worth a whole CLiT issue? Hard to say, really.
Some of those word lists seemed like they'd continue forever! We get the
point already!
Here are other things that I wish to comment on:
1. What's with signing your name at the end of your writing? We already know
it's you, and quite frankly, my dear, we don't give a flying.
2. What's with trying to make me into some weirdo character in your writing
all the time? You little freakazoid.
3. You've obviously copied and pasted this from somewhere else, because there
were no spelling mistakes that needed correction.
4. I get to choose the quotes, beeyotch!
5. Credits? Credits???
6. Aerial, attend some more English classes, you buffoon!
Overall, I give it three and a half stars, which equates to thirteen and four
fifth dead three-toed sloths, in the old measure.
This CliT sucked. Yum, yum.
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"A Polar Bear"
by AlkalineAngel
He's asked me to write something for like two hours now. I've just sat here
in front of the comp for two hours contemplating the movement of my hand from
somewhere not near the keybord to the keyboard. And guess what?... Finally, I
made it!!!!!!!
About that article by Abyss who used to be Adagio cos she seems kinda
indecisive. Well I believe in reincarnation. In fact I think I will be
reincarnated as a polar bear in my next life. So yeah, you don't only live
once, you can live many times, in my next life as a polar bear I may very
well have a great time. They're big, they're cuddly, they're warm (well they
must be cos they live in Antarctica and don't wear clothes) and most of all
they love Coca-Cola and all the ones I know seem to have an unlimited supply
of it.
So in conclusion I think polar bears have very nice lives and I will look
forward to becoming one.
The END!!!!!
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yOUR cLIT hEROES aND hEROINES, iN oRDER oF vERBOSITY...
aBYSS * aLTEReCHO * aLKALINEaNGEL * aERIALISTICISH
wEBpAGE :: hTTP://tHEpLEASUREzINE.cJB.nET
eMAIL :: cLIT@hOBBITON.oRG
(c)OPYRIGHT cLIT 2001 * aLL rIGHTS rESERVED * mADE iN aUSTRALIA * 27.5.01
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