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t h e n e o - c o m i n t e r n e l e c t r o n i c m a g z i n e
I n s t a l l m e n t N u m b e r 1 4 1
We Are the New International
February 11th, 2001
Editor: BMC
Writers:
BMC
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;P Featured in this installment .b
$ $
$ A Story That Had To Be Told Out Of NECESSITY - BMC $
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EDITOR'S NOTE
(please do not read the following)
It is the Neo-Comintern's 3rd anniversary! Whoooooo!
I just wanted to thank the reading audience for being the toughest,
most dedicated, and bravest people in the world. I know it would be wrong
for us to try to take credit for that but you owe us! YOU OWE US! Face it,
we made you. If it wasn't for this weekly excercise in tedium and literary
chaos you would never have become this stong person you are today. I think
it's fair enough to say that you'd be nothing without us. Sure we didn't
always treat you well, but if we would have you would have turned out weak.
And you know weakness is for... the weak!
Of course I'm just having some fun with this (since I have become old
and miserly I find this to be the only way I can have fun). But again,
seriously, you know that the Neo-Comintern has always been and will always
be about one thing. The Love. The Love, oh, The Love. We love you and we
will always love you just like in the movies.
The Love is the medium and the message is The Love.
At this point I would like to stop talking about everything important
and vomit all over my monitor because I wrote an editor's note for this
issue that was good and special and took me an hour to write and then I
deleted it by accident and this editor's note (sadly but honestly) pales in
comparison.
I guess that takes us full-circle to issue one when I lost the
articles that Komrade B and I had planned to use in issue #1. Just like 50
issues ago (91) I wish I could stop releasing this zine forever. Truly this
is the most terrible day of my life, but how well does that carry through
low ascii? Not fucking well, I bet.
SO here's the fucking article. Call it The Death of Bugz Buny part
3, continued from issue 104 or just call it whatever you want.
Fuck!
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;P A STORY THAT HAD TO BE TOLD OUT OF NECESSITY .b
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It was about six months after that unnamed period in history and then there
was another month, making it just over half a year and almost exactly seven
months later to the time I have mentioned. Since then, I believe, our
star character (Protagonist? Antagonist?) had taken a new turn in life and I
had all but lost touch with him. Something strange happened to him on that
long-forgotten day when he came to life due to that figurative old silk hat
that I placed on his head. Maybe it was the best day in his life, and maybe
it was the worst... and who am I to say this, but maybe it was not a day in
his life at all for all of the significance (or lack thereof) that it held
for him. Maybe he was not even truly alive. I don't know if we ever
established that for certain, and I neither know if we never will.
We had stopped seeing each other, him having come to write stories about me
for a change and confusing me entirely so that I did not know who was the
character and who was the author. I could not say. I could never say, and
I still cannot. But this paragraph, this very paragraph that I am now
writing and you are now reading, was not intended to be used for me to tell
you about that struggle, rather it was supposed to be used to tell you what
the... character, Bugz Buny has been up to lately. Instead I will use the
next paragraph for that purpose.
Aside from his occasional guest spots in the stories I write and my
occasional appearances in the story he writes (the latter of which I refer
to as "real life"), he's too busy for me most of the time. To put it
eloquently, he just doesn't give a crap. He doesn't care about much of
anything. He doesn't care about the new family I wrote for him, he doesn't
care about the birthday present I gave him, he doesn't care about me, he
doesn't care about you, he doesn't even care about this story, if you can
believe that!
In the last seven months (hmm... now 7.02 months) I have written five or six
stories "featuring" this character, and wouldn't you know... he never does
what I want him to and sometimes he never even shows up! In the month of
Mae, for example, I wrote a second story about him called "The Death of Bugz
Buny part II" and when the part of the story came where he was supposed to
pull out a gun and start shootin shit up he pulled out a bunch of flowers
and said something that... something not even I, Writer, would have imagined.
"Oh precious little flower, spread love like pollen through the world;
o'ertake the world's sense of freedom, penetrating their nasal orafices,
impregnating their souls with your worldly fragrance; make dreams of peace
bloom not unlike your pink labia... erh I mean petals."
If you know me well, you probably know about my censorship battles and about
all of the local (here read "hick") businesses that refuse to sell my stories
due to "four-letter words," "anti-democratic ideas," and my personal
favourite, "I don't understand this." Well here goes Bugz, just spouting
words off like it doesn't matter if I get stocked in all of the swanky
emporiums. Well if it does matter, HE certainly doesn't care about it...
I'd be better off talking to Harry Chapin about my problems, and he's dead!
But I egress...
So Bugz was sitting there in my story, going on and on about making fucks
with flowers, so what do I do? What can I do? I pull the plug and say,
"Hey, Bugz, this story is over! I sign my name to it, cap it off with a
concise "The End," entitle it DoBB2.BMC, save it, close it, exit MS-Word
v1.0, shell into Windows, and shut the computer down. The next day I opens
the computer and suddenly the textfile is twice as long as it was the night
before.
I've never been able to explain how this kinda stuff happens, but it's like
the story kept writing itself after I shut down and went to bed. It's just
this fault that I have; I make my characters too believable and they end up
taking on lives of their own and I just don't have any control over what they
do anymore. The same thing happened with Bubble Hand Boy and the Man Who Did
Not Exist... it's not to say that my words are magical or anything, but the
characters are just... so... real.
When I first described Bugz Buny's storybook universe it consisted of a
single street that had two buildings on it, his apartment and a convenience
store. This day his world is so large that I can not even begin to describe
it. Still it continues to expand and the rabbit behind that growth is our
own Bugz Buny. Through the course of his many tales he has created every
city, every house, every person, every detail of everything. In that world
he is the God - nay, more powerful than a god because he does not have to
worry about continuity.
In my world, also known as THE world, Bugz has many powers, too. He can
make things happen to me and he can, on occasion, even make my decisions for
me. As his skill has grown he has surpassed me as a writer. As his stories
become more powerful than mine I find it difficult to retain control of my
life. I have an angle, though, and a plan to regain control. It begins
when I start a creative writing class with award winning fiction author
Mildred Raffe. I once read a story by her that was very similar to this
one, so she should be able to guide me from there. Oh, who am I kidding,
she's probably just an invention of Bugz's put in my world to throw me off
track.
So instead I'll go directly to plan G. Since this story is being written by
me (I think), all I should have to do to make myself stronger than Bugz is
to will myself to be stronger. I just have to write it into the story,
right? Right? Right? Nobody seems to be answering me. Damn this accursed
medium! Maybe I don't understand the dynamics of this story as well as I
thought. Maybe that means my idea won't work, but I think it's still worth
a shot.
(I feel silly for doing this:)
I am a better writer than Bugz Buny.
Wow, that's better. Now everything's ok again.
The End.
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AND NOW A MESSAGE FROM THE ROYAL IMPERIAL BUGZ BUNY:
Dear friends, dear people, dear buildings and streets, dear does and deers,
I beseech you; listen to me now for now may be your last chance to listen
to. You may be forced and lied to by the evil BMC if you do not heed the
words of the Buny, Bugz.
He has been lying to you, I urge you, the BMC has been lying to you! I am
the one who lives in your world and the BMC was a character in a world that
I created! He somehow gained power and rewrote the world that you live in
so that there are no bunys anymore, only bunnies... and they aren't in charge
of the world now either! Furthermore, the world is now being run by the
humnz, now referred to as somthing like the "humans being," which is, from
what I have been told, a large robot of some sort that eats rabbits and puts
them in cages. So I warn you humnz and bunys, this is not the world that I
have created! This is a crazy mixed-up BMC world and I can not be held
responsible when it runs afoul! I can't control it anymore now that he has
stated that he is a better writer than me, there is no way that I can think
of to counteract his actions, except, now that I am in charge of this story
again, perhaps I can...
I am a better writer than the BMC.
Nope, it still didn't work. Actually, this is still the BMC, not Bugz Buny.
It's been me all along. I actually wrote everything up to this point and I
am currently continuing to write. I know it might seem like I did all of
this to play an unfunny joke on you, but trust me, that was not my sole
purpose. I succeeded in conquering Bugz, and you know what else I succeeded
in? Teaching you a valuable lesson:
I always know what your life has in store, so take what you can get and
never strive for more.
The True End.
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___________________________________________________
|THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S |
|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
| TWILIGHT ZONE (905) 432-7667 |
| BRING ON THE NIGHT (306) 373-4218 |
| CLUB PARADISE (306) 978-2542 |
| THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME (306) 373-9778 |
|___________________________________________________|
| Website at: http://members.home.com/comintern |
| Email BMC at: thebmc@home.com |
|___________________________________________________|
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Copyright 2001 by The Neo-Comintern #141-02/11/01
All content is property of The Neo-Comintern.
You may redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the
content must not be altered or modified in any way. Unauthorized use of any
part of this document is prohibited. All rights reserved. Made in Canada.