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=============================================================
Date: Fri, 1 Apr 94 11:48 GMT
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
Subject: WHAT?
>In a secret transmission, Melanie admits:
>
>>I think it all comes down to whether or not you can accept the
>>fact that everything is cause-and-effect and nothing, nothing has freewill.
>>If you believe that there truly is some sort of free will andresponsibility
>>then you can't accept D's reductionist ideas. What are you working on?Are you
>>doing research then?
>
>Such a reductionist view yourself... i would state, nation the notion asit
>were, that the levels you posit are arbitrary positions on a non-graded(but
>yet not curved, only staggered, slightly wobbly drunken unionorganizers)
>scale. that scale itself is unscaled, not surmounted by hashish marksall
>along itself.
Levels? Where? Melanie spoke of two dichotomies, causation/randomness
and acceptance/nonacceptance of either of the former, with no attempt
to impose any such relative ranking as "levels" would suggest, a notion
with which you yourself appear to concur by the dreadfully roundabout means
of introducing a scale and proceeding to remove the grading characteristic
by which it is defined, thus altering "scale" to "thing" and cluttering the
stage.
>do you _know_ how far into the julia set to go to get a Pretty
>Picture[tm]? no. do you _know_ at what point seemingly randomsub-atomic
>motion influences seemingly orderly molecular motion? do you _know_ onwhat
>level, in mere _three_ dimensions, where to find the dividing linebetween
>determininstic processes, consciouness, and free will?
Were those questions rhetorical? The first two are capable of experimental
solution, though the highly subjective nature of both renders any such
endeavour decidedly hokey. As for the third, what three dimensions are
they of which you speak and what is the precise nature of their relation
with the concepts which you (implicitly and without substantiation) present
as a continuum? And, presuming the audience in its collective head kindly
murmurs what (if anything) you believe to be the correct answers to your
questions, what conclusions are we to draw? Precisely this, it would seem:
>it is an illusions of size, my dear melanie.
>
>it is all an illusion of size.
What is an illusion of size, and what has it to do with either your
questions or Melanie's above remarks? You're again introducing the
concept of measure, then snatching it away: "it's only an illusion,
fooled you; the scales have no marking". We've returned to Go by the
scenic route, without collecting $200, and are once again at the "levels"
which Melanie must have posited while my back was turned.
>this is what makes me drink, when i'm holding onto the razoredge of mymind
Oh, me too. Drink, I mean, not grip edges of mind. Please send urgent
clarification, including if possible some tenuous connections between your
floating quiz and your concluding observation, before I get to my fifth
bottle of brandy. And keep it brief, if you would; my eyesight has gone
walkabout again today.
Thank you,
h760
=============================================================
Date: Fri, 01 Apr 1994 14:09:12 -0500 (EST)
Subject: Job Offer Arrived Today
Sender: "Brent Clark Palmer, Esq." <00BCPALMER>
To: Donkey
Via a lovely zeppelin, the distinguished offer to barely distinguishable me
arrived today.
It seems I have to sign something promising not to give away companysecrets.
So, I won't be able to reveal the 11 secret herbs and spices as previously
promised. Many of you haven't added my sister Lisa to your .dis list yet.
Please do so, she has a nice Jewish last name and all.
Brentstein "Chickens Chickens Chickens" Palmerbaum
00bcpalmer
It won't be long and I'll be on my way to training in Omaha NE and then off
to California. I may have a change of address for youse'all very soon.
It
=============================================================
Date: 01 APR 1994 08:47 -06
From: Merciful Lee Dickens<DICKENS>
Subject: Reply to re: critic's corner
To: Donkey
>
No, no, JoePro; the trick is to stay here, revel in the good, rise above
the bad, and laugh at the ridiculous, while being prepared to smite the
hips and thighs of any DamnYankee who does likewise. That's the trick.
Hell, anybody can be hip in New York...
Barney T. Devil
*** Comments from I KNOW *THAT*'S RIGHT; 04/01/94 08:31am:
Yeah, ol' Barn was dead on on that one Josey boy.
You couldn't DRAG me north. West, maybe. North? Whatta you, fuckin
kidding me? I'm a reformed Yankee, born in Providence, Rhode Island
(which is an oxymoron, isn't it?), but fortunate enough to drift south
of the Mason-Dixon in the early Sixties.
Living up there makes a person crude, Joe, while living down here
refines a person, encourages a certain savoir faire and gentle grace,
and produces a much more beautiful example of what God intended when
She created the human race. This isn't your fault, bud. Please don't
think I'm looking down at you. You can't help being a product of your
environment. Hell, you don't have any TREES left up there, how could I
hold you responsible for being what you are, a poor misguided fellow
being who didn't know well enough to stay in tropical paradise in the
first place?
Tell you what, Joe - why not soak in a nice hot bath for awhile and
just quietly meditate? Turn the lights down low, put on Rod McKuen's
"The Sea" album and shhhh, just shut up for awhile......
there ya go,
shhhh...
merciful
AND HEY SPEAKIN ABOUT DIS HEAH:
Please, no flames.
=============================================================
Date: Sat, 02 Apr 1994 09:18:30 -0500 (EST)
Subject: Sharing
Sender: "Brent Clark Palmer, Esq." <00bcpalmer>
To: Donkey
I have decided to share a communique I sent off to Bill, or portionsthereof,
since some of you may wish to dissect the descent-from-coolness which I
am and which is me and in me.
A Reader Writes:
>Say, what're you gonna be doing, exactly, at this gig?
Well, there's this sales office. And little minions, who don't sell,
but who do all the work, like, all the paperwork, and all the making-
the-customers-fell-good-when-they-feel-down stuff type stuff.
I, the salesman, am in charge of said office. I meet with people at
big companies. I undercut the bids of my competitors. I have built-in
clients goin' in ... Should be pretty.
I touch crystals. I say my affirmations. I consult the tarot.
I burn incense. I find a big picture of Pancho Villa and hang it
on my wall. I get my own office which I can enter and close the door.
Goodbye World!!!
Someday very soon I will be out of touch with the net unless someone
knows how I can stay in touch while my computer is in an Atlas moving
truck. That will be very moving.
Thank you for your concern. Hugs to you. Someday I'll send you music.
I really will.
Brent
I added that part about the hugs. Say, isn't my sister Lisa wonderful!?
=============================================================
Date: Sun, 3 Apr 1994 16:11:00 -0400 (EDT)
From: <LIBALP>
Subject: Coc'nut mac'roon summer
To: Donkey
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Thu, 31 Mar 1994 11:34:57 -0500 (EST)
From: <libwca>
>night long. And coconut macaroons. Did I mention coconut macaroons?
>
>Barney T. Devil
Look down, look down/
That Coconut Macadam/
Before you travel On/
And don't get it wet/
Damp is okay/
Damp is different.
Look down, look down/
That Coconut Macadam/
Before you travel On.
As you know, Mr. Devil, I am lately suffering from a large marketing
campaign for a new see-thru-type malt liquor beverage monikered, if
memory serves, "ZUD". I put it to you, sir, will this new ZUD remove
stains as well as the old me? Will it, nay, CAN IT make Bozo monochrome?
The old Zud was lemon-fresh, because in our culture, the smell of lemons is
associated with industrial-strength hygeine. Is the time of the
lemon-flavored malt-liquor beverage at hand? Iz Zud as Zud duz?
zud and fading fast,
Arthur C.X. Parker
=============================================================
From: <WHIPLASH>
Date: Sun, 3 Apr 94 19:40:51 MDT
To: Donkey
Subject: janice is sleeping and we're going to eat
we're going out to eat and she's sleeping now
a thing so beautiful i can only think i'm blesed
sorry BLESSED by angels sorry ANGELS SORRY ANGELS
SORRY BLESSED NOT SORRY NOT BLESSED NOT ANGELS
blessed and blessed by whatEVER, i really don't
care as long as i got to see this; i got a winning
lotto ticket to peek at the family i came from and
though i will end up having to go on an adventure
to lamneth etc. how can i not give up thanks? one
night by a big fire years from now maybe i will
have the skills to tell you what it looks like to
see her sleeping there and make you feel the
warm chill across my skin i felt which then will
be many years ago
and we will look into
each others eyes across that fire
knowing
as i have done once or twice
and the Theorys and Furies bowed
their heads
=============================================================
Date: Mon, 4 Apr 94 16:25:06 CST
From: GR4302
To: Donkey
Subject: notice form the FBImbibe
This is an official notice of what you're NOT supposed to do (you
fucks) from the Federal Bureau of Intoxication.
Do NOT, I repeat DO NOT (goldernit!!) send any money to anyone running
the notorious Chicken-Beak scam. This scam was originally initiated
by certain unruly delegates to the UN permananet mission from the
People's Republic of Chicken. Please Note: Though chicken beaks
do contain protein, all the grinding in the world will not convert
them into moon cakes. Further, you cannot scrape enough plaque off
your own teeth to make an efficient calcium supplement for chickens
or any other large vertebrates. You dumbass citizens will be suckered
into anything. Why don't you just leave your goldern hard earned
dollars in the Savings and Loan where they'll be secure and where
they won't be going to line the pockets of money-grubbing, scum-sucking
criminal bastards! I don't know why I even bother with you shits
except its my patriotic duty. Now fuck off!
;^##
This message brought to you by the Corporation for Pubic Broadcasting, and
from support from dinky pubes like you. This is PBS, the Pubic
Broadcasting Corporation & squat!
=============================================================
Date: Mon, 04 Apr 1994 20:10:50 -0500 (EST)
Subject: These wingtips were made for walkin'
Sender: "Brent Clark Palmer, Esq." <00bcpalmer>
To: Donkey
It's time to say farewell to this incarnation of me!!!
This Friday, the computer will be packed away and sent off to California
where I begin a new life as a person prretending to be sane.
yes, prretending with two r's at that.
Hopefully, Mr. Lesser can advise me as to how to best access this
wonderful internet thing so I may at least telnet back into this account
and such. I shall look forward to *that*. EJ, what movie is that last
sentence from? .. Oh yeah, Star Trrek VI.
PLease send me snail mail at my parents address as I will get lonely inthese
weeks without y'all (ya'al et al):
Brent Clark Palmer, Esq.
8___ K___ C______ _o__ #_6
_____s_, __ ##_#_
Just a postcard or sumfin.
Yet perhaps Mr. Lesser will help me to access the internet right away
in Bakersfield via his internet prowess, and then I will not have to be so
lonely without you all.
Off to corporate indoctrination.training.die.die.die. Foss please pray for
me. Iwould like to remain somewhat if a burnout if that is possible.
resignedly, yet sincerely, carried along by events, yet somehow feeling the
Master Bee <Pollen>
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 05 Apr 1994 08:15:19 -0500 (EST)
Subject: IT's COMING DOWN!!!
Sender: "These Wingtips Were Made For Walkin'." <00BCPALMER>
To:Donkey
Dear gentlefolk,
>From this cadre we shall someday rule the world. Each to theirJerusalem.
Each each each eaching. "Brain" hereafter referred to as "B.," called me
em me last night to inform me em me that I would be placed on the Good S
hip Lollypop and pushed in the direction of Nebraska for a week of train
ing em me. If I have told you this, this is more proof that I should inn
no wise be given the responsibility (sp?) I am being given. I was drinkk
ing outta the blue cup the smorning and I sez to the Mrs., "Where did th
at blue cup go I was drinkin' outta? It was right here in my hand and no
w it's gone em me!" The blue cup was in the kitchen, whereplace I had ta
ken it, yet I had forgotten.
You must needs endure this glut of messages, l-o-n-g-e-r than rob's (if
you know what I mean), since I will for too too long be away. I have ass
kissed (asked) Scott, what with talk of how I genuinely *could* promote
Delphi, to help me access y'all from Bakersfield, which has no Donkey to
ride elsewise em me.
B. zuz luvs you em me,
sorrowful and rejoicing
your Brent <Pollux> : Melanie's bee <pollen>
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 5 Apr 1994 13:38:27 -0400 (EDT)
From: <libwca>
Subject: Re: Coc'nut mac'roon summer
To: Donkey
On Sun, 3 Apr 1994, Arthur Parker wrote:
> As you know, Mr. Devil, I am lately suffering from a large marketing
> campaign for a new see-thru-type malt liquor beverage monikered, if
> memory serves, "ZUD". I put it to you, sir, will this new ZUD remove
> stains as well as the old me? Will it, nay, CAN IT make Bozomonochrome?
> The old Zud was lemon-fresh, because in our culture, the smell of lemonsis
> associated with industrial-strength hygeine. Is the time of the
> lemon-flavored malt-liquor beverage at hand? Iz Zud as Zud duz?
The New, Improved ZUD is improved exactly to the extent that it does none
of the things done by the older, inferior ZUD - which did indeed make Bozo
Monochrome, and removed ALL stains, but had no known connection with faux-
hip hatwear, and was unable to cause replacement of all instances of the
letter "s" with the letter "z", due to the lack of a proper string-search
interface in the older, inferior Zud which, it should be noted, did indeed
make Bozo monochrome. This last was, of course, a design flaw, as once
Bozo was monochrome there was very little need for the product.
Thank you,
Barney T. Devil
Chief Comptroller, ZUD Industries Ltd.
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 5 Apr 1994 16:53:46 -0400 (EDT)
From: <libalp>
Subject: list setup biz
To: Donkey
I know you asked for comments about this a while ago, Zeek, but I
couldn't, you know, BE BOTHERED to form an opinion about it at the time,
given all the broken dreams and shattered promises of my yesterhood.
Thing is, I don't really like this approved subscriber method: 1) It
slows things down, as is happening today, and 2) if we can't manage to
flame our enemies off the list, we deserve to be stuck with them.
Also, I agree with Rob's point about not being able to fake messages to
the list, if that is the case.
What we need is a spirited debate of the issues, THE ISSUES, for christsake.
Cuthbert, boy, bring me my pantaloons! I've got a hankering to ride the
back of the sofa and sing Hank Williams at the top of my lungs!
Arthur C.X. Parker
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 05 Apr 1994 07:51:49 -0500 (EST)
Subject: Old Earish Tune
Sender: "These Wingtips Were Made For Walkin'." <00bcpalmer>
To: Donkey
The Lord of Lobes, my shepherd is,
whose earwax faileth never.
I nothing lack if I am His,
and He is mine forever.
Where streams of living earwax flow,
my ransomed soul He leadeth.
And where the verdant pastures grow,
with earwax earwax feedeth.
Perverse and foolish, oft I strayed,
Yet in His Lobes he sought me,
and on his shoulder gently laid,
and home, rejoicing, brought me.
-- Hymnal 1940. The Protestant Eustacianal Church
bee
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 05 Apr 1994 22:48:45 -0500
To: Donkey
From: (zeek)
Subject: clarifications (hehehe) about the new list <donekey-!>
Cc: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
I should be dreaming at the moment, or very close to beta phase, butfortunately
this afternoon's mocha was blended with a "trick mix" by a very nice short
haired
woman working at the local drink shop. I am therefore enjoying another Late
Evening while the body is yet adjusting to dst.
Earlier this afternoon I visited the unix person and asked her to kindly
change the
list back2 "open subscription" mode. She gave me that look again: "zeek,
I'd really
like to spank your bottom!" then opened the floodgate... or rather,
reconfigured
donkee-l.config to read:
open-subscription=yes
This will not only please you, but I as well. There will be no need for me
to respond
to listproc@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu "subscribe youser@cecil's.domanename.vil"
every
time new bait discovers "donkee-el, turn here" while Surfing* the
Information Highway*.
There is no intention for List Owner to assume the role of List Owner, or
adopt the charming
persona of Blue Magic Majcher. I may have entered FNORD-L as a megalomaniac
<if this
is what worries you>, but that character was used only as a litmus test; to
assure that you kids
would be able to handle the magnitude of my presense (however subtle) and
the Loud Sounds
I make while stomping about the place.
I am not easily offended, nor will I tinker with the list in any form,
shape, or way.
Please keep in mind that Listserv Software is now considered obselete (from
what I understand)
and has been replaced widely by Listproc (which will soon be tm). Listproc,
composed by a Dutch,
will not allow for creative or emotional addressing. As much as I would
enjoy this (really, I did),
it is not possible. There may be ways around this, but you'll have to use
your imagination.
The unix administration minds not the number of subscriptions or amount of
traffic generated by the donkey. There was fine print however; "...if I see
the mailq clogged
on a regular basis I'll have to ask you to reduce traffic." Since I have no
desire to ask the lot
to refrain from typing, donkey will die a quick death... a matter which
will, at that time, be "beyond
my control." In sum, if a Big Donkey becomes constipated or constipates, it
will be sent to
the Butcher House by unix-admin@utexas.inc.edu
I shall weep more so than you.
All I ask is that you kids play nice, if somebody picks onya go ahead and
kick their but but
don't come crying to me asking for that sirloin in the freezer if you get a
black eye dig?
This is a fine playground, and the donkey slide is fun. Now what the fuck
you waiting for?
Did I make myself clear?
-z
Please return with typos, poor grammar, and weak sentence structure
corrected. Thank you.
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 5 Apr 94 17:24 GMT
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
Subject: THE VIEW FROM TWO PACES LEFT OF ME
>there, behind the curtain. what she (and you) are labeling asarbitrary,
>binary relations, i am placing on a continuum. recall "new ways of
>frinking"? take you dichotomies.... place them on either side of a coinand
>then note that if you took your standard lab laser to slice said coin,there
>are nigh-infinitely planes parallel to , and gradiating between, your
>dichotomies.
Ah, we make progress. You're flagging down 1992's fuzzy logic bandwagon.
Well and good. However, if you choose to employ the model of a continuum,
which necessarily implies a natural ordering, how can you then decree that
that ordering shall be random? You have still not addressed the question of
why you should introduce the circular concept of an unscaled scale: are we
speaking of *imaginary* gradation, as though it were a fish?
>My point precisely. subjectivity MATTERS. where you draw the linebetwixt
>'pretty picture buried in the julia set' and 'simple collections ofoints
>reresened pictorially' is subjective, based on one's _impression_ oforder,
>information. 'chaotic systems' contain more information (have a seeming
>order) when viewed from a different scale. when viewed in macro, thatol'
>shell model of atoms makes sense. the closer you get, the more you needto
>say that they aren't so much shells as clouds... then areas ofprobability,
>ecc etc on down to 'the planklength', where --like magic-- 'normal'hysics
>breaks down and you have to use quantum equations. Just as when one ges
>further up out of one's box, one needs to start using relative frames of
>reference.
There are therefore two different notions of subjectivity in your questions:
that involved in the personal and possibly arbitrary interpretation of
such words as "pretty pictures" and "seemingly", which certainly precludes
objective investigation, and that incurred by placement within the model,
which, presented as you have done, with no attempt to relate "subjectivity"
to the element of random dysfunction which is inherent in its first usage,
has more of the air of precision attached to relative objectivity. How do
you account for this?
>Required reading: Dennet and Hofstaeder. Read _Godel, Escher, Bach_ and_The
>Mind's Eye_. This was the refernce to determinism (and rigid,cause/effect
>systems) and free will (and randomness) in re: consciousness.
>
>The three dimensions of space (and one of time) in which we snuglyreside.
>While current superstring theory calls for 11 dimensions in toto, ithink
>there is some relaionship between temporal and spatial relations on the1:11
>scale. My source? None other than Dave Conlin, veteran of torrador and
I thought for a moment you were going to answer my question of the nature
of the relationship between your chosen dimensions and the continuum.
Slightly peeved at seeing that you'd only provided a reference instead of
a few pithy sentences to explain the validity of the notion, I cheered up
no end when I saw that you were intending to address the matter in eleven
dimensions. "Oh, good", I said to myself, "I only asked for the original
three". Picture my disappointment when you went off on the tangent
of introducing your source. Though thrilled to meet Dave, I was expecting
you (or him) to explain the alleged relationship when preliminary
pleasantries were over. No such luck.
>the universe. god. the mind. god is the mind seen from a differentangle.
Which angle? Different from what? Do you mean that god is the mind in
greatest detail as the fractal structure therein reaches infinite complexity
and intricacy? Or a collocation of views from all points, with all
degrees of magnification? What do you say to the epiphenomenalist who,
observing the fractal shebang, jumps up and down in his eagerness to ask
whether you hold that mind is a deconstructed view of universe or vice versa?
>damn, brid, i feel so... analytic and unclean, having felt like i sortedmuch
>of it out. and i'm sorry it bugge(re)d you.
Oh, don't be like that, Joseph Z. Provo. It didn't bug me, just merited a
detailed request for clarification, herein continued, prior to your
rejection letter.
h760
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 5 Apr 1994 12:36:00 -0400 (EDT)
From: <libwca>
Subject: Re: THE VIEW FROM TWO PACES LEFT OF ME
To: Donkey
On Tue, 5 Apr 1994 H. UNIATZ wrote:
> Which angle? Different from what? Do you mean that god is the mind in
> greatest detail as the fractal structure therein reaches infinitecomplexity
> and intricacy? Or a collocation of views from all points, with all
> degrees of magnification? What do you say to the epiphenomenalist who,
> observing the fractal shebang, jumps up and down in his eagerness to ask
> whether you hold that mind is a deconstructed view of universe or viceversa?
Dear H760,
Are these maths?
Love,
Barney T. Devil
ps - Recent biography of the magnificent St. Cuthbert received, being
devoured with eternal verity. Surprised to note ability to converse
with Jackdaws; not so surprised at multiplication of pig fat for boot-
greasing. Also, read with interest of companion volume on the Venerable
Bede; hasn't the latter been Venerable for quite a long time now,
without advancing in grade? Please explain the hold up.
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 5 Apr 94 19:15 GMT
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
Subject: PAYRISE AND COMPANY CAR FOR BEDE AS POST IS UPGRADED
>Dear H760,
>
>Are these maths?
>
>Love,
>Barney T. Devil
>
>Bede; hasn't the latter been Venerable for quite a long time now,
>without advancing in grade? Please explain the hold up.
Dear Barney T. Devil,
No. Maths occur only when the angle A is greater than the angle C,
and never in April, when the shellfish fly south. As researchers,
despite persistent rumours of the existence of sky-gods, have not yet
produced a living specimen of a flying deity, no further entries
in the Provo God-U-Like contest will be countenanced until autumn.
Upon consultation with my friendie in the Vatican via the telephone
machine, I discover that, as of last Tuesday, the Bede has indeed been
upgraded: he is henceforth to be known as the _Adorable Bede_, and fluffy
replicas of him are to be sold on all stops of the Spring apparition
tour. Conyers would contain yr nearest retailer.
love,
h760,
still only Venerable
=============================================================
Date: 05 APR 1994 09:01 -05
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: I'VE READ YOU
To: Donkey
IN YOUR GLOOMIER DAYS
I'VE DANGLED IN
PRECIPITOUS WAKES
OF UNDREDGED DREAMS
IN ABYSS LAKES
AND SHOT A BIRD
FROM A TEENAGE CAR
AT YOUR PLAINCLOTHES COP
WITH HIS DRIED BLOOD STAR
AND SENTENCED TO THE DIE
IN THE STATIC
ELECTRICITY CHAIR
WITH THE GAS FOOT STOOL
I DISRUPT THE RHYME SCHEME
HERE AND NOW
I BLEW OUT THE WINDOWS
IN YOUR PINK PINK CONDO
I FLAPPED MY WINGS AND
SCREAMED DEFIANCE
AT YOUR SYNTAX
YOUR SIN TAX
YOUR FESTERING GLOBULE
PEABRAIN SHITHOOK MINDHOLE
BUT WHAT'S THE USE
WHO GIVES A DAMN
A RAT'S
MADLY TWITCHING ASS
IT'S OVER BEFORE IT STARTS
YOU LOOK UP AND NOTICE
THAT YOU'RE GONE
"WH-WHY... THIS IS A BAG OF SHIT!"
--- Miss Presky
=============================================================
Date: 06 APR 1994 09:26 -05
From: Merciful Lee Dickens<DICKENS>
Subject: GOING CRAZY
To: Donkey
There's a student worker with a real dumb lazy drawl in the Circulation
office right now, going on and on about one of those stupid made-for-
television please-don't-take-my-baby neurotic crises movies:
"Oh ya'll! Did ya'll see that movie on tv the other night...it was SO
good...it was called For The Children?" (pronounced cheel-drunnnnnn)
"Oh ya'll! It was SO sah-yad! I jes crad and crad and crad..."
I'm over here gnashing my teeth at the interminable spinal-decalcifying
screech of her relentless blather. I can't WAIT to move into my new
office away from these chattering tree shrews. Pray for me. It's bad
today. Bad.
Bonus: it's Harley "Babbling" Brooks' 61st birthday today and they're
having a little bash for him in the asylu---I mean, office. Hillbilly
Woman is competing with Fat Lady to see who can be the loudest in the
lame anecdote contest. Harley is oblivious, rudely interrupting any-
thing that moves and braying his despicable raucous buffoon laugh, but
the crones are not deterred. They are jockeying for position, neck
and neck, vying for the coveted mantle of Supreme Torquemadahood.
Fat Lady plays dirty and starts talking about someone who just died.
Everybody gets quiet. She rolls in the sudden lull like a sow in mud,
wall-papering the inside of my skull with her opinions, issuing in Ol'
Faithful geyser-like regularity every twenty-two minutes from now until
the end of time, and trumpetted in all likelihood from a horn held to
her enormous ass, Hieronymous Bosch fashion, but I dare not peek over
the partition to be sure.
My frontal lobes are inflamed. My photon shields are down. My king-
dom for a cotton Indian ghost dance shirt. Father, can you help an
old altar boy? I'm a Catholic.
Raging Bull,
Merciful Lee Dickens
Pleading Innocent Since I
Walked Into This Thing, c1986
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 13:41:51 -0500
From: Merciful Lee Dickens
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
One time I was walking down the railroad tracks, bored, just a crazy
kid with a guitar and a dream, and I ran into old Work Release. He had
him an old catfish he'd caught out of that old polluted pond where the
run-off from the old toxic waste factory is dumped. He was trying, of
all things, to cook that nasty old fish over a durned old rubber tire!
I said to him, "Work Release, you just about half nuts, you know that?"
and buddy, let me tell you, he sure as hell was because damned if he
didn't pull out a fork and stick it all the way in his leg! Right up
to where there wasn't nothing but handle left sticking out!
He had something smartmouthed to say, but you could tell that he just
forgot all about it once that pain set in. Last I saw him, he was
running down that track with the tire and the catfish, just a-howling.
Gotta go - I'm late for a meeting!
Love Besmirched By Nothing,
Merciful Li
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 10:56:56 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
From: <LIBWCA>
Subject: These boots were made for spurring...
On Wed, 6 Apr 1994, Creeping Beauty wrote:
> Um...Would this be the place to discuss my unhealthy obsession with
> Nancy Sinatra?
>
> Creeping Beauty
There's no such thing, Mr. Beauty, as an unhealthy obsession with
Nancy Sinatra. There are, however, several different kinds of
unhealthy obsession available vis a vis Luci Arnez. Any or all
of these obsessions may or may not be exacerbated by repeated viewings
of certain episodes of The Brady Bunch, which may also lead to:
A) Healthy Obsessions with Marcia, Jan, Bobby or Tramp.
B) Unhealthy Obsessions with Greg, Peter, Cindy, Mike, Alice or,
especially, Carol.
C) Guarded Ambivalence concerning Sam the Butcher and Don Drysdale.
Please be certain to factor in all such risks BEFORE YOU TURN ON YOUR
TELEVISION. The management will not assume responsibility for the
recent death of Beloved Character Actor and Chess-Playing Hillbilly
CLAUDE AKINS, best known for his early role as Speed Racer's youngest
brother, Chim-Chim.
Thank You,
Barney T. Devil
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 12:06:17 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
From: <LIBWCA>
Subject: Re: Surely you jest, sir!
On Wed, 6 Apr 1994, Creeping Beauty wrote:
> Did Carol Brady ever wear white go-go boots? Just curious.
Of COURSE Carol Brady wore white go-go boots! Of COURSE she did!
My God, man, what rock did you crawl out from under? Did you
SLEEP through the entire decade? Did you...
Oh, wait. CAROL Brady. No. No, she didn't.
BtD
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 11:46:05 -0500
From: zeek
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
>From: Bill Anderson <libwca@emoryu1.cc.emory.edu>
>To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
>Subject: These boots were made for spurring...
>
On Wed, 6 Apr 1994, Creeping Beauty wrote:
> Um...Would this be the place to discuss my unhealthy obsession with
> Nancy Sinatra?
>
> Creeping Beauty
There's no such thing, Mr. Beauty, as an unhealthy obsession with
Nancy Sinatra. There are, however, several different kinds of
unhealthy obsession available vis a vis Luci Arnez. Any or all
of these obsessions may or may not be exacerbated by repeated viewings
of certain episodes of The Brady Bunch, which may also lead to:
A) Healthy Obsessions with Marcia, Jan, Bobby or Tramp.
B) Unhealthy Obsessions with Greg, Peter, Cindy, Mike, Alice or,
especially, Carol.
C) Guarded Ambivalence concerning Sam the Butcher and Don Drysdale.
Please be certain to factor in all such risks BEFORE YOU TURN ON YOUR
TELEVISION. The management will not assume responsibility for the
recent death of Beloved Character Actor and Chess-Playing Hillbilly
CLAUDE AKINS, best known for his early role as Speed Racer's youngest
brother, Chim-Chim.
Thank You,
Barney T. Devil
*** Comments from NON-NIELSEN FAMILY MEMBER; 04/06/94 11:26am:
Tramp... Was that the maid? I didn't get to see that show very often.
My family was too poor to afford a television device, you see. The few
times I was able to witness the device in operation usually occurred
at the homes of rich folks, where Paw Paw had dispatched my nineteen
brothers and sisters and me to borry a hammer, so that we might crack
the paltry handful of hickory nuts that were all we had for breakfast
most mornings.
I remember that maid, though. Yow-ee, if you know what I mean. We're
talking REAL HEALTHY obsession! Yep.
Walter Cunningham
Entailment Getting Along
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 13:16:10 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
From: Creeping Beauty <TIPPY>
Subject: The Mystery Tramp
Walt,
Tramp (aka The Mystery Tramp aka Dealey Plaza Tramp #3) was indeed the
irrepressibly wacky housekeeper with a fondness for jimson weed on the
late, lamented _Dark Secrets and Dossiers_ before being replaced in the
show's final season with Uncle Gnarly. Cliff Robertson won a much deserved
Emmy for her portrayal of Tramp in 1974. After Robertson's discovery of
God (patent pending) and subsequent departure from the show in 1967, Claude
Akins was brought in to assay the role of Uncle Gnarly, the soft-spoken,
hard-drinking nihilist housekeeper with a heart of gold. While Akins gave
it his best, the large amounts of jimson weed he was required to eat took
its inevitable toll. He would die a mere three decades later. His future
death left the show floundering and the decision was made to pull the plug.
Yow-ee indeed!
Mad Prophet of the Airwaves,
Creeping Beauty
_
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 11:59:14 -0500
From: <libalp>
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
Subject: song
As I was a-wridin' one mornin' for pleasure/
I spied a hair-splitter all wridin' alone/
His hat was thowed back and his spurs was a-jinglin'/
And as he rode he was singin' this song:
Yippee-ti-yi-yo/
Get along little donkey/
It's your misfortune and none of my own/
Yippee-ti-yi-yo/
Get along little donkey/
You know that utexas will be your gnu hoam.
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 15:59:42 -0500
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens
>From: Creeping Beauty <ST002578@brownvm.brown.edu>
>To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
>Subject: The Mystery Tramp
Interesting that you bring up the Dealey Plaza connection, Creep.
If you look really closely at the photograph of the motorcade right
before the shots rang out, you'll notice there is a very striking
resemblance between the limo driver and what's his name - you know -
the guy who played Uncle Joe who was "moving kinda slow at the
Junction (Petticoat Junction)"?- well, that's who I'm talking about:
him.
Perhaps even more alarmingly coincidental is all the photographic
evidence which shows clearly that the "Babushka Lady" (ten bucks says
it's Agnes Morehead) is wearing a PETTICOAT. The Warren Commission
chose to completely ignore this glaring clue to the identities of the
perpetrators, but it doesn't take much of a detective to realize the
conspiracy was the work of two-bit television sit-com stars.
What I don't understand is motive. They had opportunity, sure, but
there had to be more of a motive than simply just being ABLE to, don't
you think? I mean, God...
Merciful Li
Still Remembering
Exactly Where He Was When The Woman's
Husband Came Home Unexpectedly To Tell
Her That The President Had Been Shot
P.S. - I can show you William Demerest in photos of spectators that
lined the motorcade route. He played "Uncle Charlie" on My Three
Sons, remember? He is reputed to have hated "Uncle Joe" and is
thought to have been there trying to save Kennedy, but who knows
for sure...?
P.P.S. - Otis Redding knew who did it. Check out the lyrics to
"Tramp" sometime, right as the song is fading out. They killed his
ass dead, too, goddammit. And man, could he sing...
Carla: "Tramp!
Otis: Wud you call me?
Carla: Tramp!
Otis: Oh nigger please!
Carla: You just country. Otis!
Otis: Gonna CUT yo ass...
Carla: You don't wear the latest styles, got them ol brogan shoes
Otis: (as the song is fading out)
the President was killed by a loose coalition of bad
sitcom actors with unhealthy obsessions for the slutty
daughters of Las Vegas schmaltzy ballad crooners with
connections to the Mob and J. Edgar Hoover..."
Thirty Years Later And I Still
Get Gooseballs Just Thinking About It...
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 13:29:04 -0500
From: Creeping Beauty <TIPPY>
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
Subject: Re: Surely you jest, sir!
Barney the Devil asks:
>Did you SLEEP through the entire decade, man?
Which decade we talkin' about here? I've slept through a couple.
Rip Van Creepingbeauty
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 16:19:11 -0500
From: <LIBWCA>
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
Subject: Re: The Mystery Tramp
On Wed, 6 Apr 1994, Creeping Beauty wrote:
> Walt,
> Tramp (aka The Mystery Tramp aka Dealey Plaza Tramp #3) was indeed the
> irrepressibly wacky housekeeper with a fondness for jimson weed on the
> late, lamented _Dark Secrets and Dossiers_ before being replaced in the
> show's final season with Uncle Gnarly. Cliff Robertson won a muchdeserved
> Emmy for her portrayal of Tramp in 1974. After Robertson's discovery of
> God (patent pending) and subsequent departure from the show in 1967,Claude
> Akins was brought in to assay the role of Uncle Gnarly, thesoft-spoken,
> hard-drinking nihilist housekeeper with a heart of gold. While Akinsgave
> it his best, the large amounts of jimson weed he was required to eattook
> its inevitable toll. He would die a mere three decades later. Hisfuture
> death left the show floundering and the decision was made to pull theplug.
Ironically, Dealy Plaza Tramp #2 was lovingly portrayed by the father of
Woody, the lovable bumpkin bartender on the long-running comedy smash hit
"The Partridge Family", which is seen by many Kultur Kritics as the
only serious rival to "The Brady Bunch" for the title of Defining Artistic
Summation of Life in the ferocious cultural epoch known as the Late
Hippie Age. Woody, portrayed with rustic aplomb by Danny Bonaduce,
played the Holy Fool to Ted Danson's worldly, cynical Shirley Partridge;
together, the naive manchild and the intellectual sophisticate worked
their way up and down the Mississippi River, killing and eating unwitting
travelers for sustenance as they sought the elusive Holy Grail of the
American West - The Maltese Falcon Ragtop with the 450 Cleveland. Pursued
by the ubiquitous One-Armed Bandit, our intrepid young lovers wind up in
Dealy Plaza, where they are seconds too late to stop Woody's grizzled
old pappy, Pete Best, from carrying out his vile scheme - but just in
time to prevent leering cosmopolite Abraham Zapruder from selling his
home movies of the event to Sherwood Schwartz, the evil genius behind
"The Brady Bunch." The Zapruder film airs, instead, as the tag to a
particularly hilarious episode of "The Partridge Family", riveting a
generation together at the hips and securing the cultural leadership of
America's youth for producer Mel Swope (The Laughing Pope). Weeks later,
Naval Intelligence operatives apprehended introspective loner Rob Reiner,
in the role of Laurie's biker boyfriend Snake, and charged him in the
assassination; the case against Reiner was greatly weakened, however,
when he accepted the role of Arthur Fonzarelli in Tennessee William's
masterpiece, "Death of a Salesman". Reiner and boyhood chum Ron Howard
were killed while trying to escape custody shortly after Frank Rich of
the New York Times called the assassination "tragically miscast"; both
have been unable to work since, and have taken to directing.
Barney T. Devil
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 6 Apr 1994 13:22:34 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Once there was a dog named Pancake and, yep, you guessed it - he got
run over and flattened. Flat as a pancake! The weird thing is, he
was given the name Pancake AT LEAST 5 MONTHS BEFORE THE ACCIDENT!
His name a self-fulfilling prophecy, you posture? Pancake predestined
to die, you ask? Hell, I don't know. But I can tell you this - he
tasted like shit! Thought I never WOULD get the taste of Pancake out
of my mouth...
Remind me to tell you about this dumsumbitch named Work Release. Now
there was a dumsumbitch.
Merciful Li
Coming Up With All Kinds Of Crazy Shit, Yes-
But At Least It's American Crazy Shit, Buddy!
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 94 08:42:34 MDT
To: Donkey
From: WHIPLASH
Subject: I CAME TO GET DOWN I CAME TO GET DOWN
missile away, all friendlies initiate emergency avoidance
turn away from blast center immediately
----- Begin Included Message -----
>From rdh Thu Apr 7 07:51:44 1994
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 94 07:51:42 MDT
From: rdh
To: NEW-LIST@vm1.nodak.edu
Subject: NEW: Donkey-L -- Will you STOP TOUCHING ME?!!!
Donkey-L on listproc@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
What Donkey-L is:
[ PROSPECTIVE LIST MEMBER ENTERS, STAGE RIGHT, HOLDING HALL PASS;
CONFUSED; LOOKING AROUND TO GET BEARINGS; SLIGHTLY IRRITATED;
ALONE ON STAGE; STANDING BEFORE LARGE SIGN THAT READS "Donkey-L" ]
Prospecto: Why can't they just TELL us what it is? Why should I
even BOTHER with this thing if I don't know what it IS? Am I
in the wrong place? Maybe I'm in the wrong place or something,
maybe there's been some mistake. I come all the way out here
and they don't even go to the trouble to make any sense!
HELLO?! Is anybody here?
Hello?...
Membership requirements: NO POWER-WHINERS
To SUBSCRIBE:
Send a message to listproc@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu with the following
line IN THE BODY of the message:
subscribe donkey-l yourfirstname yourlastname
LISTOWNER: zeek@
----- End Included Message -----
----- Begin Included Message -----
>From rdh Thu Apr 7 08:07:07 1994
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 94 08:07:04 MDT
From: rdh
To: NEW-LIST@vm1.nodak.edu
Subject: Re: Donkey-l
Hello Mr. Hoag!
First, I want to thank you for advertising two lists I started
up quite a while a go: VintageVW and Coins. I managed to fill
a niche in the net with those, had a good time, and although
I no longer administer these lists, they are alive and well!
Thanks for the service!
Now, about "Donkey-L"...
There's a long version to the story and a short one... I'll
give you the short one.
Donkey-L is a public version of a private mail list that has
existed for several months. This mail list is counter-intuitive,
non-rational and defined dynamically by it's content. What I
mean by this in plain english is that we don't *want* anybody
to know what the list is for; we don't really know ourselves.
We believe that we get the most benefit from the list when we
don't define it. We just see what comes up. It is an experiment
in communication, and while some of us believe that it may fail
miserably (indeed, there were several of us who thought it
shouldn't be advertised in the first place, but we conked them
on their heads until they "saw the light") we are very excited
about it right now. At the very least, we see it as an opportunity
to meet good writers, and, being email addicts, we are always
on the lookout for good writers, however they are inclinied in
terms of content.
In short, the Donkey-L submission is not a put-on. I ask you
to please run it as is. I believe it will add the necessary
uncertainty in the minds of our prospective subscribers, giving
us (and *them*) the fresh ideas we are looking for.
Also, please *DO NOT* excerpt this message in the NEW-LIST
posting! If you do, you will blow our experiment...
In any case, once again, thank you for providing this valuable
service, and thank you for helping me get VintageVW and Coins
off the ground!
Your Health,
robert holder
----- End Included Message -----
...OK, so it's bullshit, but it'll probably get him to send
the message on. from his point of view, it probably really
does look like a spoof.
also, his list membership is around 5000 people now... even
if we only get one percent interested...
your adoring love-slave,
r
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 1994 14:00:02 -0500
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens
>
or do you all want to go with another idea for the ad? i like the
ambiguous thing because it will tend to screen out people with no
imagination... and will help the list fall into the trap of endlessly
talking about "new ways of thinking" or some equally pointless theme.
we should respond as quick as we can while we still have his attention.
if we wait a week, he'll figure we don't have our shit together and
aren't in a hurry, and then nothing may happen for awhile.
rob
*** Comments from HEADACHE AND NECK CRICK; 04/07/94 01:50pm:
I don't give a shit one way or the other.
You guys handle the politics, I'll supply the raw talent, the chiseled
aquiline jaw, the buckets of testosterone oozing from my every pore.
I just came over to sing bass and help out with the fucking. I don't
want to have to think. That's what I pay YOU for!
The Handheld Blade The
Child's Balloon,
Merciful Li
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 1994 13:59:54 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
From: Creeping Beauty <TIPPY>
Subject: The Motorcade Sped On
*Another Piece of the Puzzle*
"The Black Dog" Captured in photographs taken just minutes before the
assassination, this dark shape appeared in the Dallas sky temporarily
blotting out the sun, while loudspeakers, apparently concealed behind
its demonic glowing red eyes, blared "THE PRESIDENT MUST DIE!" repeatedly
in a monotonous insect drone. *NOTE* Spookspeak: "It's time the 'black dog'
paid the President a little visit." *NOTE* Frank Sturgis once owned a
black dog named "Oswald." *COMMENT* Most researchers have concluded that
this was an attempt by factions of the CIA on "our" side to warn the
President. I'm tempted, though, to throw it out altogether because of the
conspicuous absence of any link whatsoever to the world of organized sit-
com television.
This in no way discounts the possibility that the entire assassination
was hallucinated by a dying Aldous "Hooray for Hollywood!" Huxley, then
embarked on Sandoz' around-the-cosmos-in-80-seconds tour.
I think someone's following me.
Creeping Beauty
_
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 1994 17:26:02 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
From: Creeping Beauty <TIPPY>
Subject: {ADVERTISEMENT}
I sent this epistle to the Fnordites.
----------------------------Original message----------------------------
the persecution and assassination of punch and judy as performed by
intimates of her most exalted royal donkey the queen under the direction
of mysterious men in plaid
******************** MATINEES NOW PLAYING DAILY! **********************
NOT A HOAX! NOT AN IMAGINARY OFFER!
Hello! I'm Claude Akins and I've returned from the grave to tell you
you about this amazing television offer.
Please take a moment to ask yourself these simple questions.
(1) Where am I?
(2) What's the deal with Sulu?
(3) Just what role did Dick (the "good" Darren) Sargent play in
the sinister psychodrama enacted that fateful day in Dallas?
If you answered "Huh?" to any of these you may be just the sort of
personoid we seek to avoid. Please read on...
Curious? What have you got to lose? Hop on board the *Big Ass* today!
Act now as this offer will not be repeated! Please have your discredit
card ready. Mutilators are standing by...
Be a part of this growing concern in the minds of many. Send Czechs or
monkey orders to:
listproc@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
with the winning catchphrase: SUBSCRIBE DONKEY-L YOURNAMEHERE
tattooed on its body.
Your full cooperation in this matter will be greatly misunderstood.
*DonkeyCo* -*- Purveyors of fine, high-quality dada since lunchtime.
_
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 1994 10:18:55 -0500
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens
This just happened! I was reviewing yesterday's post concerning the
connection between all the low budget sitcom stars and the Kennedy
assassination and the woman on the other side of the divider from me
said "My Three Sons" JUST AS I WAS READING THE VERY SAME WORDS!
Wait - it gets weirder!
Her conversation was about a SITCOM - NBC's "Mad About You"!
Apparently on tonight's episode, Murray the Dog suffers depression and
is visited by a special guest star - a mystery dog, whose face was
concealed in the television commercial. I was tuning out their
conversation until I heard her say "My Three Sons". Terrifyingly, she
was speculating that the "mystery dog" may have been--- "Tramp", the My
Three Sons dog!!!
I'd completely forgotten that that dog was called Tramp!
Synchronicity? Nunh-UHH!
Coincidence? Kiss my ASS, it's CONSPIRACY!
----------
So that's the rest of the story of why Otis Redding was murdered by
those BastardsWhoKilledKennedy - he was trying to warn us in his song,
"Tramp", that the My Three Sons dog was an operative! Oh, it's all
becoming clearer. It reaches a lot deeper than I thought. I wouldn't
be at all surprised to learn that Lassie was up to "her" eyeballs in
this...
Oh WOWWWWWWWWWWWW, man! It just hit me!
Check it out - the peculiar similarities between Lassie and David
Ferrie:
FACT! More than one of the television Lassies was actually a boy dog
that network execs had CASTRATED to play the part of the female collie!
FACT! David Ferrie didn't have any hair and wore a cheap rug and
magic-markered eyebrows!
FACT! They both played with a little boy named "Timmie"!
Don't you SEE???
Lisa, if Brent's already off-line, please call him and tell him about
these recent discoveries. His life could be in danger!
I think we should ALL get off the Internet immediately now and go into
hiding. THEY're not going to let us live to tell about this.
Stay Safe My Friends,
Merciful Li
ps - Harley "Babbling" Brooks has interrupted the Mad About You
conversation and is saying "I will never forget the agony I felt
in high school".
RUN!!!!!
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 07 Apr 1994 07:47:49 -0500 (EST)
Subject: DUPLICATE of I SHALL RETURN!!!
Sender: "These Wingtips Were Made For Walkin'." <00bcpalmer>
To: Donkey
Okay gang, I know there's been a lot of braying about getting things twice,
so I re-worded some of the sentences and am sending to the dist list the
(sort of / sawed off) same message I just sent to donkey-l at that mctouchy-
mcfeeley place ... my apologies to the whiners who don't want to get this
twice, but this is my last post for many moons, and I wanted to make sure
you got it. Here goes:
------------------------- replicated message follows ----------------------
To: in%"donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu"
Subj: I SHALL RETURN!
Enter your message below. Press CTRL/Z when complete, or CTRL/C to quit:
First of all, don't bother responding to this post. I have unsubbed from
donkey-l until I can resubscribe from my new location in space and time.
I don't want the account to be flooded here and have it terminated, 'cuz
I plan to telnet in and use it, if you know what I mean.
Thankfully, I am able to bequeeth (sp?) my sister Lisa to this list. Please
be gentle and kind to her. Show her how to eat the raw meat withoutretching.
She joined yesterday during the Kennedy Assasination/Brady Bunch discussion,
so I can't help but feel she's in good hands. I must convey her hellos toour
invisible parents whither I go, ye hardly knew me.
Next time I write, I will no longer be tapping away at this keyboard (AKA
"writing") from a loony man's desk in an apartment as wide as a closet,
surrounded by postcards from California. I will be in California, from
whence I came. A genuine true thanks for being such dear friends to me
while I was a sane man pretending to be crazy. When you hear from me next,
I am afeared I shall be a crazy man pretending to be crazy. Or is that the
other way around? KFC has a really good benefits plan though.
Maybe I won't be so goddamn maudlin though. And I'll blow off all the
steam that I store during stressful corporate days. I bought two lovely
suits. One is deep blue. The other is camel and black in tiny checks,
appearing solid-colored from a distance, much like what the donkey's
back looks like from here. But then again, you are not here, so you may
think I'm actually talking about my suit or the donkey.
Well enough babbling. I pick up the keys to the company van on the 20th,
the first day of Taurus (zero degrees Taurus) ... [I was married at zero
degrees Aquarius] ...
Angels and Ministers of Grace protect you in my glorious absence, or you
may at least depend on Lisa. Let's all depend a little more on Lisa.
Brent Clark Palmer AKA Brent <Pollux> AKA Bee <Pollen> -- mynet.life is
passing before my eyes ... ah well, Aries is the season of resurrection(sp?).
I told Lisa how long I thought I'd be gone.
You can depend on Lisa.
Depend on Lisa.
on Lisa
Lisa
Li
-L
...
Scarecrow, I'll miss you most of all.
p.s. I'll call Scott the Lesser (low are high, high are low : place yourbets)
from HQ in Nebraskee ... I'm fading ... I'm fadee ... I'm a fad!!!$9.99!
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 1994 21:53:48 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
From: WHIPLASH
Subject: Re: {ADVERTISEMENT}
ah... fuck.
fnord can go to hell.
is there anybody there?
ugh. oh well.
i guess we can kill 'em as they come
off the conveyer.
i'll do it if nobody else wants ta.
-r
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 7 Apr 1994 08:07:42 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
>Subject: A DOG NAMED PANCAKE (SMTP Id#: 18323) - Reply
>To: DICKENS
>
Cube why the language?
*** Comments from CUBE; 04/06/94 03:55pm:
By Crikey, I'm glad you asked me that. Without language, Vida, the
human race as we know it would still be eating their primordial
soup with a fork, but due to the increased need for communication
in an agrarian society, sociologists came up with what we today
proudly call language.
Goodbye Jazz-L
I ain't coming back
Love,
Cube
=============================================================
Date: Fri, 8 Apr 1994 03:48:09 -0500
Sender: donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu
From: WHIPLASH
Subject: i hear lucifer was vain too...
i came to get down
i came to get down
JUMP AROUND
well, i'm in This State, so i though i'd make the
most of it antagonizing as many as i can
heywhatsthesecret
hey DNA dana where for art thou droog?
sheee-it, i DO belive i's be KNOWIN wher the fuck
for art thou at least as far as my cheap ass mooch
fuck soul needs you gots the karma halfway house
there in stixland and if'n we dumbass mofos gots
any sinse, we be knowin ta take care of our own
hey dana hey goddamnthankyou
hey billtownsley goddamnthankyou
you bill ANDERSON
you arthur PARKER
and then there's cecil
let me tell you something about cecil
(now, wait a minute, yer drunk, doncha'll be
SAYIN no funky shit about OUR FRAU)
HEY!
heh heh heh, gotcher tenshun
cecil is cool like our summers here and light
skinned and sharp like lorena bobbit's paring
knife and I'M HERE TA TELLYA
them helenatroyskeedadles?
they ain't seen shit. they ain't seen squat
scoot.
cecil is cool man. any selfrespecting he-male
will realize he is in the presence of a nymphlike
NAY GODDESSLIKE
aw fuckit, the stupid cartoons don't work...
man, i thought cecil was one fine babe.
of course, i'm courting total reality truncation
by sech a statement...
but i will say this.
she bought me a dinner.
ah, shit, well, you know me, i'm a romantic and
i like that softgel on all my friends so's they be
lookin' like MOVIESTARS an shit
well, i'm having a sentimental feeling about our
good friend cecil. hey you. you listen.
sometimes the best view of the Garden is from
standing on the wall as a kid looking over, and
getting to talk with the gardener.
well, maybe not the best view, but hey, i'm a
kid and us kids
our horizons are not
always our own.
Looking,
Always Looking
=============================================================
Date: Fri, 8 Apr 1994 23:53:21 -0500
From: zeek
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
Subject: problems and stuff...
Listproc is fucked... This one comes from Foss:
Rejected message: sent to donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu by
<@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU:DFOSS@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU> follows.
Reason for rejection: sender not subscribed.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That's quite true, what you said, Bob, "Picture the Word Perfect." For one,
I picture it all the time. Solid unsullied *Blue*, screen-shaped; the iconic
representation of visitation of supernatural chastisement for Nonfeasance,
Failure, Lassitude, and Doing Nothing. There is Nothing *essentially* wrong
in the doing of Nothing, provided it's what's intended wasn't the *not*
doing of Nothing, and having *not* done it, having instead done Nothing,
hence committed grave ritual impiety, affronting the nongods, whose duty
is to be alienated representations, externalized reifications; still, we
need 'em. Just so long as we never hear any gods saying they need *us*,
sure sign that psycho obtains.
Daniel A. Foss
=============================================================
Date: Fri, 8 Apr 1994 20:05:06 -0500
From: <WHIPLASH>
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
Subject: watch the donkey take a shit
watch the donkey take a shit live on mtv and
i'm really diggin' the total ratings sweep they're
gettin' god it's just luvly time to punch the walls
nah, i'll just take a shit an keep the synchrospiracy
alive, you know it's us grunts down here on the
front lines well WHAT front lines? i mean just picture
the tv advertising account managers in a frenzy on
the phones trying to sell extra ads over the heavy
coverage time from 5 to 8 pm "yes this is Jack Shit
from mtv... well it's very important... i really
need to talk to him about an opportunity we have now
that won't come again for... yes... yes... yes, i
understand, can you just... ok, but look, you're
really going to look good for your boss if you
interrupt... yes i realize that, but kurt cobain
has commit-- kurt cobain, he's a pop singer... a
very very popular pop singer and it's just come
out that he's dead, and your boss advertises on
mtv and we're projecting that two to four million...
ok, i'll hold" and i'm really digging the whole
scene man it's just so Real Good MY corps YOUR corps
OUR corps MAYBELLINE corps
"You were in the Maybelline Corps?"
"FOUR years."
and i'm learning so much ABOUT kurt and i feel
comfortable calling him kurt, i'm not a ghoul, i mean
i'm videotaping the event not because i'm a ghoul but
because i just really care, you know? i mean you
know he really affected my LIFE you know and i mean
i've gone into the mosh pit, not at nirvana but at
some other pretty intense shows i mean i'm PUNK i
mean hey
and i'm really groovin on the heavy heavy anti
violence PSAs they're playin' tryin to get the losers
and wastoids to not kill themselves in sympathy or
identification but these ads they're just so un
righteous
some guy from rolling stone magazine is saying
"A lot of parents are going to see this as some
rock star who just couldn't handle it but that's
wrong. this is *your kids*" yeah, righteous you
goddamn right mutha, this is the nineties and i'm
not too sure what generation x means not the billy
idol band but the social descriptor but if it means
anything it means dissaffected whatever you know
i'm not too good with words but the antibiotics
are not gonna work too much longer so don't worry
about aids, worry about pneumonia and shit worry
about everything eastern europe and loose nukes and
troops on the border in korea and africa slowing
sliding down the hill to the cliff and yasir
arafat won't condemn the recent killings and all
this shit fuckit "if you didn't see nirvana, you've
missed your opportunity; kurt cobain, dead at 27"
says kurt loder of mtv and by now you are probably
sick of this shit if you've even read this far
and that's fine because we're all going to die
in the nineteen nineties.
Be There Or Be Square,
hate,
rob
=============================================================
Date: Sat, 9 Apr 1994 17:08:43 -0500
From: <TIPPY> (DON QUIXote)
To: Multiple recipients of list <donkey-l@mcfeeley.cc.utexas.edu>
Subject: How to respond to distressing remarks
--- Forwarded message follows ---
Date: Mon, 4 Apr 94 18:09:42 EDT
From: somewhere@over.the.rainbow
Subject: How to respond to distressing remarks
DEAR MS. DEMEANOR -- How is one to handle those people
who, under the mask of a smile or other cordiality, throw surplus
hand grenades into an intimate soiree? I'm afraid I have no gloves.
A relative stranger who had invited us for the weekend
greeted us at the door, with "I feel awful -- I wish you would fucking
leave!" We had driven over 1100 miles, and we don't, by the way, have
to sleep with just anything that creeps across the portcullis.
An employee of mine greeted me at her granddaughter's
wedding reception by saying, "I never see you without thinking of
parasitical tapeworms raining like broken cats from the skies."
As openers, these leave me hungry, but they come from
the control room more than the kitchen, and as such are not,
unfortunately, one-time-only so-sorry gotta-run charlies.
If Ms. DeMeanor could offer some suggestions about how I
might, with exquisite political iron heel, lay them out, I would be
externally grateful.
Frankly, I am tired of being civilized. Why do people
not accept the fact that I have large leathery wings? Where is it
written that a mad shooting & shopping spree might not be just what
the voices ordered?
The more people realize this, the more self-conscious they
become and the worse it will get. How can I respond to their cruel
and insane mockery of all that is good?
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