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      The Neo-Comintern Electronic Magazine  --  Installment Number 207
 .... .. .  .   .    .     .      .        .      .     .    .   .  . .. ....
    `""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""'
      
                  Subversive Literature for Subverted People

                  Date:                        June 29, 2002

                  Editor:                                Cog

                  Writers:                               BMC
                                              Ahmed Balfouni



  d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
 ;P                      Featured in this installment:                     .b
 $                                                                          $
 $                         True Science Stories - BMC                       $
 $                    opportunity knocks - Ahmed Balfouni                   $
 `q                                                                        p'
   `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'

                                EDITOR'S NOTE
                        (please DO read the following)
  
  BMC has fled the country and left me holding the bag.  This is a mixed bag
  he's left, as it entails me editing the Comintern.  It may be fun, it may
  not be, and it probably won't be.

  I feel like I've stolen a baby.  A human baby.  I actually enjoy the
  feeling, so things might just turn out okay.  That is, as long as you
  keep feeding the baby (The Comintern) with food (flan cake).

  Please don't be responsible for letting a baby die.  Email me some flan.

  In the next few issues of the Neo-Comintern you'll see thrills, chills and
  magnificent triumphs.  There will be spills and kills and handfulls of
  pills.

  And maybe ... just maybe! ... we'll all learn a little bit about life,
  love and each other.

  But we probably won't.  Welcome to the New Neo-Comintern..

                                                                       ,o$o                                             
   o$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$Y$$b
  d$


                                                               `  `$b 
 d$'                        True Science Stories                         ,$
 $:                                by BMC                               ,$P
  `$n,.. .  .   .    .     .      .        .      .     .    .   .  . ..P' 
    `"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""'

  Dr. Gruber dropped everything when she realized what discovery she had
  stumbled upon.  This was the moment that would define her career.  This
  moment was everything.  Too excited to do anything else, she took a brief
  nap to settle her spirits.  When she woke up, she called the
  administrative assistant and told him to schedule an emergency meeting.
  When he asked what this was about, Dr. Gruber simply replied, "Oh, not
  much, just a new, amazing discovery."

  Ten minutes later, Dr. Gruber went into the board room.  All of her
  colleagues were present when she arrived, except for the senior scientist,
  Dr. Hancock, who walked in about thirty seconds later.  The room was
  buzzing with anticipation about what Dr. Gruber had to say.  When the room
  seem settled enough, she called for attention and made her big announcement.

  "Today, my esteemed colleagues, I discovered that human beings are made
  out of 95% fish."

  The scientists gasped.  Dr. Gruber became nervous under the heat of their
  glares.  One spoke up.  It was Dr. Floyd, the notorious skeptic.

  "Are you saying that humans share 95% of the gene pattern of a fish?"

  "No.  Not quite.  I'm saying that a human being is made up of 95% fish and
  5% other stuff like skin, eyes, nose, etcerera."

  "So what does that mean?" Dr. Floyd replied.

  "It means that we're made up of fish, and... umm..."

  She sat silent for a moment, looking at the ground, collecting her
  thoughts.  When she came to her senses, it was too late.

  "Sorry for all of this," said Dr. Gruber, "but I seem to be sleepwalking.
  I mean, that whole human/fish thing was just a dream...  I didn't actually
  discover it through science."

  Dr. Floyd became infuriated.  "You brought us here for nothing!  You have
  no way to prove that humans are 95% fish!  What have you been wasting your
  time working on?"

  Dr. Gruber thought hard.  She thought back beyond the human/fish equation.
  That was part of her dream.  She had the dream because she was asleep.
  She was asleep because she'd decided to have a nap.  She decided to have a
  nap because she was excited.  She was excited because of her discovery.
  And her discovery... yes!

  "Yes!  I remember now!  It wasn't the fish thing that I discovered this
  morning, it was a cure for cancer!"

  Dr. Gruber's colleagues sat around in stunned silence.  Nobody had
  expected her to say that.  It was unexpectable.  When Dr. Hancock had
  collected her thoughts, she addressed Dr. Gruber.

  "Dr. Gruber," she said, "that is interesting, but not quite as good as
  the fish thing."

  Dr. Gruber looked around the room and saw faces expressing disappointment.

  "...are you listening to me?  Dr. Gruber... Adrienne... the cure for
  cancer was discovered over twenty years ago!  All you have done is
  re-invent the cure for cancer!  Your research has all been a waste of
  time!"

  Dr. Gruber fought back her urge to cry.  She had been working on a cure
  for cancer in her spare time for the last three years, and now it had all
  ended - not with a scene of glory, but with one of betrayal and
  humiliation.  Nothing would ever be ok again, unless...

  Right then and there, Dr. Gruber resolved to dedicate the rest of her life
  to PROVING that human beings were 95% fish!  Even if it was stupid and
  impossible, she would skew details, bend facts, and even outrightly lie if
  it was necessary to prove her theory.  With new confidence and
  determination, she looked around at her colleagues, smiled, and said,
  "Apologies, my friends, but I should be leaving now - my research is only
  beginning, and I have a lot of work to do."

  When she walked out the door, Dr. Hancock suppressed a giggle.  Dr. Floyd
  let out a guffaw.  Dr. Quiring doubled over with laughter.  Even Dr. Peace
  let out a good choke.  For minutes, everybody laughed.  Some rolled around
  on the floor, some inhaled the coffee they were sipping, and some even
  passed out from having too much blood flowing to their heads.  Eventually
  the laughter died out, silence claimed the room, and chaos was supplanted
  by order.

  Dr. Hancock spoke up.  "Should somebody go and tell her that the cure for
  cancer hasn't actually been discovered yet?"

  "Yeah, I will... after lunch!" replied Dr. Floyd.

  They all had another good laugh.  The meeting was adjourned, and Dr. Floyd
  and Dr. Hancock went out for lunch to the sushi bar down the street, a
  place that they liked to go to 95% of the time.

                                                                       ,o$o                                             
   o$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$Y$$b
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                                                               `  `$b 
 d$'                         opportunity knocks                          ,$
 $:                           by Ahmed Balfouni                         ,$P
  `$n,.. .  .   .    .     .      .        .      .     .    .   .  . ..P' 
    `"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""'

  at the time I had called in my capacity as
  High Commissioner of Intramural Activities for
  an embargo against the importation of chickens
  from that country that were all practically all
  legs and the people reduced to breeding them
  by dust bowl farming oh what was in a bad way
  to compare with it? we were settling in for long
  dealings with the dotterels when who flew in
  we called him St. Thomas of Cuba something
  about him first he fed the blighters then
  he told us to look out our windows there he said's
  your city well we knew that was a pile of shit
  but we knew something of value when we saw it
  so we put his face on every box of chicken legs we sold


 .d&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&b.

  The Neo-Comintern Magazine / Online Magazine is seeking submissions.
  Unpublished stories and articles of an unusual, experimental, or
  anti-capitalist nature are wanted.  Contributors are encouraged to
  submit works incorporating any or all of the following: Musings, Delvings
  into Philosophy, Flights of Fancy, Freefall Selections, and Tales of
  General Mirth.  The more creative and astray from the norm, the better.
  For examples of typical Neo-Comintern writing, see our website at
  <http://www.neo-comintern.com>.

  Submissions of 25-4000 words are wanted; the average article length is
  approximately 200-1000 words.  Send submissions via email attachment to
  <bmc@neo-comintern.com>, or through ICQ to #29981964.

  Contributors will receive copies of the most recent print issue of The
  Neo-Comintern; works of any length and type will be considered for
  publication in The Neo-Comintern Online Magazine and/or The Neo-Comintern
  Magazine.

 -    -   -  - -- -------===========================------- -- -  -   -    -
    ___________________________________________________
   |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://www.neo-comintern.com      |
   |        Questions?  Comments?  Submissions?        |
   |        Email BMC at bmc@neo-comintern.com         |
   |___________________________________________________|

 -    -   -  - -- -------===========================------- -- -  -   -    -
  copyright 2002 by                                            #207-06/29/02
  the neo-comintern

  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.