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{begin}
INTEGRAL.FUNCTIONS.005
dd/mm/yy = 15/03/96
file_siz = 026k
{=========================================================================}
{get FILE_ID.DIZ}
Integral Functions is a bi-weekly electronic 'zine that encourages both
stylistic and topical experimentation in all possible forms of literary
self-expression.
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Issues will be available on the FTP site approximately one month after
their release. Please read the instructions on the site to be sure that
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{=========================================================================}
{get CONTENTS.LST}
00000001 Message #714, Yasuaki Kudo
00000010 SIGNIFICANT DIGITS
00000011 HATE LIST NUMBER ONE
00000100 Poems: March 07, 1996
00000101 procedure interface_7_human_conversation;
00000110 attempt frenchaise
00000111 Journal Excerpts 1996 - David Wilkins
00001000 FORest x0000'1b
00001001 PENIS
00001010 VIDEO MADNESSS blowout
00001011 oh sweet butter
00001100 Copyright & Submission Information
{=========================================================================}
Msg#: 714
From: MEH68277@?????.??.jp
To: All
Subj: THE SHIT LIFE
Date: 08 Aug 95 22:33
------------------------------
Jesus I really want to puke. My father just came into my room. Began
his monthly routine "What university are you going to enter?" I knew that
I couldn't talk with this guy seriously anymore.
It was probably 3 month ago. He began throw things away to me. It
hurt. I remember I was telling stop doing irrational. As myself
defense, finally I punched his...We have been to this over and over and
have changed nothing.
If you're still reading my bad English text, I thank you, and if you're
such a patient reader, let me tell you a little about my life so far.
People keep saying me that I'm a unique person. I haven't seen any of
my friends (or *are* they my friends?) for 4 months though. I've had
hated schools sometimes. It wasn't *sometimes* last year, and it was
shit. A sea of shit. I'm sorry about telling stories very randomly. It is
complicated so much that even I can't explain it well to my self. What
do you think of studying? Math, Physics, things like that. Have you
ever had any feeling "How do you know this is true?"
God, if you are still reading my article; you can make a good psycho-
analyst. You're so patient. For the past 3 years, the question "How do
you know?" was my life. The main problem was in mathematics field.
I've been through a lot of mathematical proof. I really thought and
thought. What do you mean proof? "A = B. B = C if D is true. since D
is true, A=C." stuff like this. For me, every mathematical proof
*seemed* like true, but the bottom line was, I could not believe a single
word deeply enough. I was thinking that understanding was universal so
if something is true,like a lightning your brain just sticks to that idea.
With that belief, I kept thinking, hoping it will happen to me which
*never* happened.
Are you still reading? Wow! It will be so nice if I had a friend like
you. The bad idea was occasionally crossing my mind that I was a real,
helpless, low IQ creature. I would tell myself, don't dare to think it
that way. Those days, and even sometimes like today; the life has been so
tough. Yeah, really tough. If some one compares me with the people
who lives in countries like Yugoslavia or Haiti, he might think "what the
hell do I mean by tough?". I don't know how tough is tough. At least this
very strange 18-year-old-Japanese got a little silver hair. Nobody
could answer my question. Would you mind if I go back to that math-
story? I told my pig-looking so called math teacher How I could not
understand math fundamentally and I've been through with it all the time.
Do you know what she said? "Are you going to college or not? Don't
think about that. Do it in college." that was the only answer I could get,
but did I believe her? It was *me* who popped that question to her, I
was compelled to do that having nobody else to ask, but with the
knowledge how she taught and treated students, I could not a single word
she was saying.
Any way, I failed to enter the college. Please notice we're changing the
topic.
I could have entered a college for 100% if I didn't care what college it
was. Because I was not so bad in English in high school. Let me talk
about it later. I wanted to go to U.S. college 2 years ago so desperately.
I was so anxious to get out of that fucking country. I thought Japanese
education system was nothing but full of shit. I didn't think U.S. colleges
were perfect, but at least believed it was far better than Japanese ones.
What a pity. When I talked about it to my parents they became nuts, and
completely rejected and insulted me. "You are such a foolish kid.
Shame on you. your scores are so bad enough even here in Japan. Do
not dare to think about it!" I knew how important my grades were to
enter a U.S. college, and I could make it better if I could get out of
that country. I could have done anything to get out of that country.
We had fought it a lot of times and I finally decide to enter a Japanese
college first.
I could not study at all. I didn't know why at that time but I finally
knew what my problem was. Until I found myself so obsessed with the idea
that "If I try, I could *understand*", days of nightmares lasted. Study
every day. Scores don't change a bit. At the time I was finally deciding
what college examinations I would take(in Japan tests are everything), I
could only take one. I studied a lot; got plenty of pain; I could not have
taken any bad-reputation-college. My parents warned me I might not be
able to attend college another year. Well, I could not face the facts. I
was insulted enough 2 years ago. I could not imagine a single image of
my parents saying" Remember we said you were fool." The college I was
trying to attend was the limit. I could have taken private college exams
but it was too much. I could not possibly pay so much money to a
Japanese college.
Today we were again over it. The bottom line is; they are the ones who
have the money. Only thing I can do is to convince them that I'm on the
right track.
The reason I could only study English was because there was no why.
To understand English, all it took was to understand what way do people
say English.
Did you read it? Perhaps you are just looking at the bottom. Anyway,
send me a mail if you have something in common with me so that we can
share it.
Yasuaki Kudo
Origin: Usenet:??-???, Japan. (?:??/??.?)
{=========================================================================}
"SIGNIFICANT DIGITS"
(Angela Dreamblur)
0432904923 40329 40324 320 41049234321 40921 390821 48235782 348219 32184 402
439012904 92568329 6589234 812847 185 328965 32948 21948 4823 48328 548324236
42 384 3284 2735734 6792348 23542951 2959283658092 3589218 35682734 62938 581
5932859 3295 923 683796 3259823095298689023 569823 6989326 89235 2936 8329867
5923 859328 5982 3469829368 32968 23986 9328 6923 869238 65923869 32869 23866
65923 589 2358 3968346023593829682068 23658 92367 923 659 23658 3296 82936 62
96532 59328 4592 369034 7802926892012806218692 693 4686 29 6293 601 0213 6823
215 923 50923 65230 698 347 02396021801 680 43968 20 6810 680436 8340 6824234
5 09250 285032 680238 65012 856032 4603486028502254 3294 3294021 498012 85912
520 34 0145 23059 913285091 0915 80123 8501 25901859812 50821 39054 21048 419
4 19202 401248 0284501 4801 258012 58102 5802135 0 2150 12840 12840 2185 0512
5921 41 850 12835032 1850 821501 850 58320 85018 50821 35082305815 8051 501 5
50 2138328 592 8501 8502 8350 35120851 085 02850286 0285 01 501 58032 8501 14
50932 95032 959 438896823 0959321058904386 021950 324865 0913285 923850 23594
520395 01 923590823 9681290 35812 49312 40921 453286791 235921 4592 86539 553
43290 483210 4 836 012593 058 9138 5092348 569342 50328 59 4839687 321096 326
4 92385 0328 68723 0458213 57329 589213 854912 598327 59832 958 32958 125 832
{=========================================================================}
HATE LIST NUMBER ONE
Photocopy machines that use pink paper
Postcards from strangers
Dust mites and their shit
Electrical cords that are all bent out of shape
Due dates and deadlines
Dying suburban trees (held up by steel spikes)
Styrofoam
The sound of a thousand flushing toilets
Shampoo that smells pretty
Women that use way too much hairspray
Women that use way too much perfume
Women that use way too much make-up
The sound of a dustbuster
Batteries that aren't rechargable
Rechargable batteries that don't last long enough
Plastic bags that fall apart at the handles
Paper with visible chunks of wood in it
Radio stations that play the same songs every day
Radio stations that don't play any songs
Itchy clothing
Dogs that bark at nothing
Stepping on a wad of gum
People that spit constantly
Tearing band-aids from my arm
Cold toilet-seats
Toilets that overflow all the time
When cigarette smoke soaks into your clothes
When your stomach growls loudly in class
Birds that shit too much
Religious fanatics
Television on Sunday afternoon
Television on any other afternoon
People that think making fart noises with armpits is funny
The smell of raw sewage
Poems that rhyme
Telephones and answering machines
America OnLine
Using a lot of extension cords
Stupid billboards
Tea/Coffee that is too hot to drink
(...to be continued!)
{=========================================================================}
Gideon Hartwell
Poems: March 07, 1996
---------------------
ONE.
reasons wanted.
ignoring maybe,
thought rude i was.
was i?
should've been
silent and useless,
like the rest.
must not worry
about this thing,
trying no success.
needs time
to cool down,
think,
forget me.
shouldn't have
started all this.
too late.
-----
TWO.
what i really want
to be doing is
sipping coffee,
on public couch,
big band music
floats into ears,
looking at
picture-books.
someone i know
enters.
hello.
-----
THREE.
it was easy but i did
not effort. dreams
distracting on other
side of eyelids. maybe
tomorrow is better.
-----
FOUR.
smallness houses are
close. in window, that
could be someone i know.
that could be someone
i know. seen him around.
forget her name.
seems nice, from what
i've heard. gossip go
away. do they laugh
when sight is not mine?
need big randomness:
comfort in anonymity.
-----
FIVE.
walked through midnight field
with medium flashlights. mistaken
for supernatural. "what are you
boys doing out here at this
time of night?"
us and those police had a
good chuckle. shared coffee
w/doughnuts. must've
thought us crazy, or memory
fishermen.
did they once? when young. oh
memories. like fish they are,
jumping in boat.
careful to be sure, put back
in water before asphyxiation.
-----
SIX.
i've entered this contest that
you've created, decked out in
the most mordant contraptions.
advanced standing: the envelope
please.
-----
SEVEN.
through delicate persuasion you
uncurl your fingers,
allowing me to see what gift
you hesitate to share.
-----
EIGHT.
i sometimes wonder if
change is mistaken for
improvement.
maybe they are the same
thing.
-----
NINE.
cardboard complaints pop up
from the crowd,
rituals of discontent.
they don't realize what they
are doing, with
their wheelbarrows
full of signatures.
how embarassing it must be
for us, as a whole.
i suppose there can be no
such thing as
selective freedom.
what they must think. i am
ashamed for all of us.
-----
TEN.
being with you is like
walking around with only
one shoe on: everything
feels lopsided and
awkward.
i would rather hug my
pillows for comfort, as
i have done in the past.
-----
{=========================================================================}
procedure interface_7_human_conversation;
begin
if eye_contact = true then
begin
if face[x] = 'unhappy' then
begin
vocal_p := ('are you ok?','what's wrong?');
vocalize vocal_p;
reinitialize eye_contact;
fixate eye_contact;
smile := 0;
end;
if face[x] = 'apath(y/etic)' then
begin
vocal_p := ('hello','how is it going?');
vocalize vocal_p;
hands := arms + fidget[y];
if hands := 0 then
begin
randomize;
actu1 := random(3) + 1;
if actu1 = 1 then in_pockets;
if actu1 = 2 then folded_on_chest;
if actu1 = 3 then play_with_hair;
end;
end;
if face[x] = 'cheerful' then
begin
smile := smile + 5;
vocal_p := ('hi',name_nick,sarcastic_insult);
vvolume := vvolume + env_factor + 2;
vocalize vocal_p;
end;
else
begin
randomize;
attention1 := random(3) + 1;
if attention1 = 1 then clear_throat;
if attention1 = 2 then
begin
vocal_p := 'hey you';
vvolume := vvolume + env_factor;
vocalize vocal_p;
end;
if attention1 = 3 then
begin
reinitialize legs;
distance[a] := distance[a] - 1;
end;
check eye_contact;
end;
if reaction < 0 then
begin
vocal_p := ('do you want me to leave you alone?');
vvolume := vvolume - 2;
check face[x]
if face[x] + tears > 0 then
begin
vocal_p := ('it's ok','tell me what's bothering you');
initialize hug;
end;
if face[x] + body_language = 'negative' then
begin
reinitialize legs;
distance[b] := distance[b] + 4;
vocal_p := null;
vvolume := 0;
end;
vocalize vocal_p;
else
repeat
small_talk + intimacy;
env_observation;
check face[x];
until face[x] <> face[x - 1];
if face[x] + body_language > 50 then
begin
verify body_language;
doublecheck;
intimacy := intimacy + 2;
end;
if intimacy > 900 then comfort := comfort + 1;
if comfort + env_factor > 10 then
begin
body_language;
physical;
end;
end.
{=========================================================================}
"attempt frenchaise"
(by Clotaire)
'oui oui,' he said
j'amais toujour tu est une fils!
elle aime les bicyclettes, mais pas
les autobus. je
suis un grande mangeur des
vaches! oui, c'est vrais.
voulez vous une tres beau visage?
moi aussi...oui.
est-ce-que tu pouver tenir mon
main droite. je taime ca beaucoup.
donne moi une grande baiser! or
something...how do you say,
mange moi? vraimant?!
magnifique! oh, je suis desole!
hey! how do i do those little
accent thingys on the keyboard?
shit. merle! attendez vous, petite
mignon fille. non..pourquoi pas?
ok, au revoir, you slut.
{=========================================================================}
--- Journal Excerpts 1996 - David Wilkins ---
*** February 13, 1996 ***
Ugh. I feel like shit today.
I've become addicted to those little instant coffees. My favorite
flavours are French Vanilla and Swiss Mocha. I think they're fucking
up my metabolic system or something. I don't know.
Sometimes, when I'm making a cup of French Vanilla, the powder
doesn't completely dissolve, and a lump of brownish-yellow powder
floats to the top. This pisses me off, so I stand there stirring
the damn thing for 60 seconds or more, until it finally dissolves.
There's nothing I hate more than taking a slurp of coffee and having
a lump of undissolved powder float into my mouth. For some reason
this only occurs with French Vanilla. I should write to the company
and get them to fix this. I'll write a note to remind myself.
I usually have about 4 or 5 cups of this shit every day.
Anyway..
Mark called today while I was having a pair of microwaved hot dogs
and a cup of Swiss Mocha for lunch. He said that if I don't make up
my mind soon, I can forget about having any sort of relationship
with him. I told him not to be a prick, and to come to my apartment
tomorrow night so I can give him my answer.
I don't intend on being at my apartment tomorrow night when Mark
gets here. I'll be at the arcade, or the bowling alley, or somewhere
else, acting like a 16-year old, making an ass of myself, trying to
recapture my lost youth. Mark will be so pissed off at me. That's the
plan anyway.
*** February 14, 1996 ***
When I got home late last night, there was a message on my machine
from Mark:
"Hi. I was at your place. Where are you? Call me."
He didn't sound pissed off. I wonder what he'll say when I tell him
I'm not a queer. I should've told him when he first started expressing
his affection towards me. He probably won't believe me. He'll probably
say that I'm just making excuses, that I'm afraid of commitment, or
that I'm denying my sexuality. Shit. What have I gotten myself into?
Ever since Mark first started coming on to me, I started wondering.
I wondered what it would be like...being with another man. Not
seriously or anything. I've never really thought about it before. I'll
watch television now and force myself to stare at the men, just to
see if I'll get aroused. I'll imagine myself kissing them, etc., but
nothing happens.
I'm thinking about calling Mark, and continuing to pretend that I'm
gay. I am curious to see how far I can take this before I panic and
bail out. This is like a personal science experiment, where I have
become both the evil scientist and the innocent lab rat.
*** February 16, 1996 ***
Mark and I went to the movies last night. He apologized for making me
feel uncomfortable about our relationship. I accepted his unexpected
apology, and for the rest of the evening it was as if we were "just
friends" again.
We went back to my apartment after the movie and ordered pizza. We
stayed up into the early hours of the morning, making fun of all the
infomercials that were on TV.
At about 4:30 a.m., when we were watching a horrible 1970s action
movie on TV, I turned to Mark and made direct eye contact. Suddenly
I was letting him kiss me on the mouth. He had pizza/morning-breath,
but I guess I did too.
Nothing else happened. The movie was over half-an-hour later, then
Mark went home to get ready for work. I went to bed, but didn't sleep
very well. There were moments when I awoke, laughing and crying at
the same time.
I try not to think about the kiss.
*** February 18, 1996
I found out that Mark doesn't like those little instant coffees that
I'm always drinking.
I guess it wasn't meant to be. I feel unable to draw any permanent
personal conclusions from this experiment of mine.
*** End Of File
{=========================================================================}
FORest x0000'1b
He Steps on twigs and sticks and twigs - Around trees he goes (brush
against white skin it does)...Those branches YES YES (indeed). Scrape
Scrape as his gun drags on the forest floor (organic ORGANIC) - Do these
things hear him? Yes...YEs they do. Everyone hears the man as he comes.
They SEE him coming and ignore/andMOCK. Someone said that "The Devil hates
to be mocked"..(memory bad today). That's what those creatures do to him
mock MOck M0CK they do. This silly man he does - STOPS (gun against tree)
takes breaths; opens backpack; removes things: a paper, a pencilTHING. He
writes on a paper. He thinks he is IN TUNE with NATURE..... He thinks he
is part of this system. He thinks he is an OUTDOORSman. He thinks he is
beautiful like the creatures, so he writes a poem. A Bad Poem (that
rhymes). Do those lyric sound nice? Someone should write a song with this
lyric. Yes YEs (indeed). Those white scientists that study animal
behaviour are dumb indeed say the animals to each other ANDthemselves.
dumb dumb they are (indeed).
The man shoots at fuzzy things and misses for a-day-and-a-half but only
kills trees (very good he is at that!). They agree to themselves. On a
Sunday Evening the man and his gun return to the city (JEEP to village, bus
to train station, train to city station, city station to subway terminal,
subway terminal to other subway terminal, other subway terminal to home
apartment over a small shop that sells dildos and other such things).
The man and his woodtree/scratches on arms and cheeks go to work on Monday
that day...MONDAY! Yes YES (indeed). Coffee slurpers eveyehwere + wall
dividers making tight corners where carpet has hardened gum squished in
really really deep. Monday! Shit. He doesn't think he belongs with these
ROBOT-people. He thinks he is in tune with NATURE. He like being with the
animals and his gun Yes YES (indeed!). He is wrong (indeed) yes Yes YES.
Fuck Fuck FUck FUCk FUCK. (inddeeeeed). Ah.
{=========================================================================}
"PENIS"
(Dick Plexzur)
hey baby. .. . . .
lookin pretty hot in that little dress sugah.. ..
curves and mounds on display real goooood. ..
come over here.. . .
yeahhh. ..
wanna squeeze your chubby tits rough with my greasy fingaz sweet thang .. .
maybe pinch and nibble at your nipplez. .. .
suckle me baby. .. .
yeahhh. .. .
grab your ass and pull you up close to me.. . .
so i can stick my fucken dick up way up your warm cunt. . .
yeahhh. . .
impale ya on my pleasure pole baby.. ..
mmmmm mmmm.. . .
and fuck ya up to your fucken brains. .. .
<animal grunt>
yeahhh. ..
shoot my stuff way up ya. .. .
in ya. ..
oozing out of ya .. .
done with ya.. .
yeahhh .. .
<walks towards>
'you know.... you have the most beautiful eyes'
<sly smile>
{=========================================================================}
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transvestites for good times."
GIVE US A CALL!
For Adventure. For Sex. For Dating. Forever.
{=========================================================================}
oh sweet butter
butter, you melt in the september
sun in much the same way that you
melt in the august sun. and the
ants love you for it. they don't
tell you this, but i do, i am a
messenger from the ants. they tell
me all their secrets. i know where
they hide the queen. may i pollinate
you? of course you can. it's a
free country, don't you know.
{=========================================================================}
{get COPYRITE.NFO}
Reproduction of this 'zine (in any form) is permitted as long as it is not
sold and the entire text of the issue remains intact. Material within
this volume is copyright (maybe) by their respective authors.
{get SUBMIT.NFO}
There are no specific guidelines for submitting material to Integral
Functions. 25 - 2500 words is acceptable. Please specify if you wish
your contribution to be anonymous.
At the current time, Integral Functions does not have a stable e-mail
address where you can send your submissions. This will probably not change
in the future, as the editor of this 'zine is not interested in finding a
permanant site to work from. An adequate number of submissions are
received from the local area.
{=========================================================================}
INTEGRAL.FUNCTIONS.005
dd/mm/yy = 15/03/96
file_siz = 026k
{end}