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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!"
        
        YES!@  HATE CAN BE YOURS AT THIS lOW lOW PRICE OF JUST 19.99!  order
 yours today!

        WARNING : hate can cause pain in extremities.  consult with doctor
                  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.

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

 (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.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
 (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."

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

 (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. |  \___   ) |
 |  | |    /                           |________________________|__    | |  |
 |  | |___                                                          ___| |  |
 |__|____|__________________________________________________________|____|__|

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
 (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.

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

 (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."

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

 (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.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
 (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.

 - -- ---]

                          
                          8888  8888888
                   888888888888888888888888
                8888:::8888888888888888888888888
              8888::::::8888888888888888888888888888
             88::::::::888:::8888888888888888888888888
           88888888::::8:::::::::::88888888888888888888
         888 8::888888::::::::::::::::::88888888888   888
            88::::88888888::::m::::::::::88888888888    8
          888888888888888888:M:::::::::::8888888888888
         88888888888888888888::::::::::::M88888888888888
         8888888888888888888888:::::::::M8888888888888888
          8888888888888888888888:::::::M888888888888888888
         8888888888888888::88888::::::M88888888888888888888
       88888888888888888:::88888:::::M888888888888888   8888
      88888888888888888:::88888::::M::;o*M*o;888888888    88
     88888888888888888:::8888:::::M:::::::::::88888888    8
    88888888888888888::::88::::::M:;:::::::::::888888888     
   8888888888888888888:::8::::::M::aAa::::::::M8888888888       8
   88   8888888888::88::::8::::M:::::::::::::888888888888888 8888
  88  88888888888:::8:::::::::M::::::::::;::88:88888888888888888
  8  8888888888888:::::::::::M::"@@@@@@@"::::8w8888888888888888
   88888888888:888::::::::::M:::::"@a@":::::M8i888888888888888
  8888888888::::88:::::::::M88:::::::::::::M88z88888888888888888 
 8888888888:::::8:::::::::M88888:::::::::MM888!888888888888888888
 888888888:::::8:::::::::M8888888MAmmmAMVMM888*88888888   88888888
 888888 M:::::::::::::::M888888888:::::::MM88888888888888   8888888
 8888   M::::::::::::::M88888888888::::::MM888888888888888    88888
  888   M:::::::::::::M8888888888888M:::::mM888888888888888    8888
   888  M::::::::::::M8888:888888888888::::m::Mm88888 888888   8888
    88  M::::::::::::8888:88888888888888888::::::Mm8   88888   888
    88  M::::::::::8888M::88888::888888888888:::::::Mm88888    88
    8   MM::::::::8888M:::8888:::::888888888888::::::::Mm8     4
        8M:::::::8888M:::::888:::::::88:::8888888::::::::Mm    2
       88MM:::::8888M:::::::88::::::::8:::::888888:::M:::::M
      8888M:::::888MM::::::::8:::::::::::M::::8888::::M::::M
     88888M:::::88:M::::::::::8:::::::::::M:::8888::::::M::M
    88 888MM:::888:M:::::::::::::::::::::::M:8888:::::::::M:
    8 88888M:::88::M:::::::::::::::::::::::MM:88::::::::::::M
      88888M:::88::M::::::::::*88*::::::::::M:88::::::::::::::M          
     888888M:::88::M:::::::::88@@88:::::::::M::88::::::::::::::M
     888888MM::88::MM::::::::88@@88:::::::::M:::8::::::::::::::*8
     88888  M:::8::MM:::::::::*88*::::::::::M:::::::::::::::::88@@
     8888   MM::::::MM:::::::::::::::::::::MM:::::::::::::::::88@@
      888    M:::::::MM:::::::::::::::::::MM::M::::::::::::::::*8
      888    MM:::::::MMM::::::::::::::::MM:::MM:::::::::::::::M
       88     M::::::::MMMM:::::::::::MMMM:::::MM::::::::::::MM
        88    MM:::::::::MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM::::::::MMM::::::::MMM
         88    MM::::::::::::MMMMMMM::::::::::::::MMMMMMMMMM
          88   8MM::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::MMMMMM
           8   88MM::::::::::::::::::::::M:::M::::::::MM
               888MM::::::::::::::::::MM::::::MM::::::MM
              88888MM:::::::::::::::MMM:::::::mM:::::MM
              888888MM:::::::::::::MMM:::::::::MMM:::M
             88888888MM:::::::::::MMM:::::::::::MM:::M
            88 8888888M:::::::::MMM::::::::::::::M:::M
            8  888888 M:::::::MM:::::::::::::::::M:::M:
               888888 M::::::M:::::::::::::::::::M:::MM
              888888  M:::::M::::::::::::::::::::::::M:M
              888888  M:::::M:::::::::@::::::::::::::M::M
              88888   M::::::::::::::@@:::::::::::::::M::M
             88888   M::::::::::::::@@@::::::::::::::::M::M
            88888   M:::::::::::::::@@::::::::::::::::::M::M
           88888   M:::::m::::::::::@::::::::::Mm:::::::M:::M
           8888   M:::::M:::::::::::::::::::::::MM:::::::M:::M
          8888   M:::::M:::::::::::::::::::::::MMM::::::::M:::M
         888    M:::::Mm::::::::::::::::::::::MMM:::::::::M::::M
       8888    MM::::Mm:::::::::::::::::::::MMMM:::::::::m::m:::M
      888      M:::::M::::::::::::::::::::MMM::::::::::::M::mm:::M
   8888       MM:::::::::::::::::::::::::MM:::::::::::::mM::MM:::M:
              M:::::::::::::::::::::::::M:::::::::::::::mM::MM:::Mm
             MM::::::m:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::M::MM:::MM
             M::::::::M:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::M::M:::MM
            MM:::::::::M:::::::::::::M:::::::::::::::::::::M:M:::MM      
            M:::::::::::M:::::::::::M:::::::::::::::::::::::MM::MMM
            M::::::::::::8888888888M::::::::::::::::::::::::MM::MM
            M:::::::::::::88888888M:::::::::::::::::::::::::M::MM
            M::::::::::::::888888M:::::::::::::::::::::::::M::MM
            M:::::::::::::::88888M:::::::::::::::::::::::::M:MM
            M:::::::::::::::::88M::::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
            M:::::::::::::::::::M::::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
            MM:::::::::::::::::M::::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
             M:::::::::::::::::M::::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
             MM:::::::::::::::M::::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
              M:::::::::::::::M:::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
              MM:::::::::::::M:::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
               M:::::::::::::M::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
               MM:::::::::::M::::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
                M:::::::::::M:::::::::::::::::::::::MMM  
                MM:::::::::M:::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
                 M:::::::::M::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
                 MM:::::::M::::::::::::::::::::::MMM
                  MM::::::M:::::::::::::::::::::MMM
                  MM:::::M:::::::::::::::::::::MMM
                   MM::::M::::::::::::::::::::MMM
                   MM:::M::::::::::::::::::::MMM
                    MM::M:::::::::::::::::::MMM
                    MM:M:::::::::::::::::::MMM
                     MMM::::::::::::::::::MMM
                     MM::::::::::::::::::MMM
                      M:::::::::::::::::MMM
                     MM::::::::::::::::MMM
                     MM:::::::::::::::MMM
                     MM::::M:::::::::MMM:
                     mMM::::MM:::::::MMMM
                      MMM:::::::::::MMM:M
                      mMM:::M:::::::M:M:M
                       MM::MMMM:::::::M:M
                       MM::MMM::::::::M:M
                       mMM::MM::::::::M:M
                        MM::MM:::::::::M:M
                        MM::MM::::::::::M:m
                        MM:::M:::::::::::MM
                        MMM:::::::::::::::M:
                        MMM:::::::::::::::M:
                        MMM::::::::::::::::M
                        MMM::::::::::::::::M
                        MMM::::::::::::::::Mm
                         MM::::::::::::::::MM
                         MMM:::::::::::::::MM
                         MMM:::::::::::::::MM
                         MMM:::::::::::::::MM
                         MMM:::::::::::::::MM
                          MM::::::::::::::MMM
                          MMM:::::::::::::MM
                          MMM:::::::::::::MM
                          MMM::::::::::::MM
                           MM::::::::::::MM
                           MM::::::::::::MM
                           MM:::::::::::MM
                           MMM::::::::::MM
                           MMM::::::::::MM
                            MM:::::::::MM
                            MMM::::::::MM
                            MMM::::::::MM
                             MM::::::::MM
                             MMM::::::MM
                             MMM::::::MM
                              MM::::::MM
                              MM::::::MM
                               MM:::::MM
                               MM:::::MM:
                               MM:::::M:M
                               MM:::::M:M
                               :M::::::M:
                              M:M:::::::M
                             M:::M::::::M
                            M::::M::::::M
                           M:::::M:::::::M
                          M::::::MM:::::::M
                          M:::::::M::::::::M
                          M;:;::::M:::::::::M
                          M:m:;:::M::::::::::M
                          MM:m:m::M::::::::;:M
                           MM:m::MM:::::::;:;M
                            MM::MMM::::::;:m:M
                             MMMM MM::::m:m:MM
                                   MM::::m:MM
                                    MM::::MM
                                     MM::MM
                                      MMMM

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

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

 (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."

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