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=============================================================From: Merciful Lee Dickens<DICKENS>
Subject: RELATED NOTE
To: Donkey
Living out in the country, one of the first things you learn to get in
the habit of doing is carefully shaking out your shoes each morning
before putting your feet in them. There is a veritable plethora of
hoppy crawly slithery thingies out there that can and do get into your
shoes during the night and, unless you want a rude and potentially
fatal reminder, you'd best remember to observe that precaution on a
daily basis. I've on occasion seen such nasty surprises as spiders,
earwigs (a type of beetle with pincers, for those of you blessedly
ignorant of this wicked piece of work) and even a brown scorpion on one
particularly dark hungover morning.
Nothing could have prepared me for what greeted my eyes on *THIS*
morning, though. It was completely unforeseen, totally out of the
realm of what I would have previously thought possible. It brought my
senses to a full state of alertness with a sharp jolt of adrenalin.
Ancient instincts came into play as the limbic portion of my brain
supplied the instantaneous fight-or-flight reflexes that so typifies
the age old predatory enmity between our two wildly-divergent species,
because what tumbled from my shoes this morning into my startled gaze
was the terrifying specter of SHOE ELEPHANTS! Red ones, too - the kind
that really bite. They have a nasty sting, as those of you so unfor-
tunate to have actually experienced this can truly vouchsafe.
I was so surprised by the totally unexpected sight that they were able
to scamper under the chiffonier before I could react. As I was already
late for work I couldn't spare the time necessary to flush them out
and deal with them, so I face the queasy prospect of having to approach
my home this evening not knowing WHERE they might be hiding. It's a
rendezvous I'm not looking forward to keeping, you can be sure, but I
must, as it is supposed to be too cold to leave the cats out tonight
and I would never risk jeapordizing their well-being by leaving them
prey to the savage rampages of wild red country shoe elephants. Do any
of you complex individuals have suggestions as to how I shoul go about
their eradication? (Foss, help me out with this one, baby, and I'll
grant you your freedom, word of honor)
Please hurry, as tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day.
In Jesus Name We Play,
Merciful "Scared Of Little Wild Red Country Shoe Elephants" Lee Dickens
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 16 Mar 1994 14:25:10 -0500 (EST)
From: John Marsh <LIBJRM>
Subject: make mine rhino
To: donkey
which is, after all, the only pachyderm worth considering when you come down
to it. leaner, meaner, lower center of gravity, and none of those
namby-pamby dumbo types lurking among their ranks, neither.
and don't forget to marinade 'em in lemon tarragon butter before you grill
'em up. yum.
Chef LipGerm
p.s. Dana, those little red ones make great kabobs; try Prudhomme's Red
Elephant Magic.
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 16 Mar 94 9:37 GMT
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
Subject: RE: The Golden Jerusalem
>The Golden Jerusalem, now that's a fine idea!
Dear Dr Neutopia,
Thank you for your recent submission, "The Golden Jerusalem",
herewith enclosed. While it was impeccably presented, we found it to
be lacking in any substantial content.
Further, it was our belief, following your note of the 9th
instant, that you no longer desired to be a member of this group.
Upon receipt of your announcement, my staff and I called to a halt
our campaign of attrition against you. We should be pleased to be
informed of your current intentions in this regard, so that operations
may resume in good time if need be.
We hope to hear from you again.
h760
Rejection Dept
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 16 Mar 94 11:02 GMT
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
Subject: RE: no longer sane enough for this list
>I believe that I am no longer sane enough to trust myself on this list.
>Please remove me from it. I am terribly sorry for being in thiscondition.
Dear Daniel Foss,
Thank you for your recent submission, "no longer sane enough for this
list", herewith enclosed. As pathos goes, we deemed it to be an
admirable attempt, and quite outstanding among those we have received.
However, we should like to refer you to "The Cliche Kid", and, in
particular, the lines,
"It gets worse, Doc. Chalkdust. The old schoolroom empty.
This kid so unpopular even my imaginary friend left me
for another child...",
in the hope that you will regard them as both standard and guideline in
any future missive submitted.
We hope to hear from you again.
h760,
Rejection Dept
==========================================================
Date: Wed, 16 Mar 1994 11:53:26 -0500 (EST)
From: <LIBWCA>
Subject: No longer what enough to be where?
To: Donkey
Dr. Foss warns:
>I believe that I am no longer sane enough to trust myself on this list.
>Please remove me from it. I am terribly sorry for being in thiscondition.
Nice try, Daniel, but nobody's buying. You think I'm going to remove
you from my list, over there in the nice safe corner where I can
watch you, only to have you turn up at the foot of my bed one wind-swept
night, dagger poised above my poison heart? No such luck, Cowboy. We've
been to the wars, Daniel. We know how the game is played, you and I. I
was there, back in '46, when you outlined the whole malignant scheme for
the comrades assembled in that dark piss-stained cellar bar in Lyon, just
before you lured Marcel Duchamp into the street and cut his throat over
a friendly game of chess. I'm onto you, Ace. Keep your hands on
the table, please.
Barney T. Devil
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 16 Mar 94 9:53 GMT
From: H.UNIATZ
To:Donkey
Subject: NOW I DON'T SPEAK ANY ENGLISH JUST AMERICAN WITHOUT TEARS
Lesson A: A Few Simple Translations
------------------------------------
swamp fever = slight cold
cshow program = <empty space>
give car = jump up and down on driver's seat of car, kick in headlights,
slash tires, place sugar in petrol-tank, then conceal ruined
wreck behind back and deny all knowledge of it.
give van = keep van
sincerely = sincerely,
h760 = My Good Self
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 16 Mar 94 11:15:29 MST
To: Donkey
Subject: i'll even take a bath the week before...
From: Whiplash
YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED
TO
THE SECOND ANNUAL CONFERENCE OF INTERNATIONAL
INTERNET PERSONALITIES OF INSUPERABLE HIPNESS
DENVER, COLORADO, USA
MARCH 27, 1994 - APRIL 2, 1994
anybody else who can make it, git yer heinies over here.
scott's bringing the cheetos. it's also a moving party.
i'm moving to a new apartment, and scott's gonna need
some help getting my oak roll-top banker's desk up the
fifteen flights of stairs. let's see some hustle! let's
see those hands! check the papers, who knows, you might
find somebody with round trip tix your city/denver and
back for cheap during that time. or maybe one of those
rate war specials. everybody who shows up will get treated
to Pretty Expensive Dinners at the best sushi house in
town as well as the restaurant of your choice in scenic,
trendy downtown boulder; all the alcohol you can consume
for the week and luxurious rug-side sleeping accomodations,
not to mention an up close and personal INSIDE LOOK at the
electrifying mechanics of my gimpy marriage!
those of you declining to attend will be getting drunken,
late-night derogatory phone calls. so start sweating.
and make plans to attend next year's conference, located
in New Orlean's grimy French Quarter, during the week of
mardi gras. anybody who can make mardi gras next february,
fuck it, let's reserve a room for the week, get the time
off work, scrounge up the $$$$ apiece for a decent room
and spending moolah and go! i'm not kidding man, let's
all meet at mardi gras next year.
at the very least i need arthur to ship me the bed o'
nails. i'll get this lesser character straightened out
you guys--don't worry.
You Bunch A Damn Party Poopers,
Senor Viejo Verde
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 16 Mar 94 12:57:33 MST
To: Donkey
Subject: Degrading Foreign Relations
From : Whiplash
i was in a bookstore the other day and passed by the
foreign language section. as i thumbed through a book
on spanish idioms, i recalled that a friend who speaks
spanish told me that no one actually uses any of those
idioms. i wondered whether the book i showed him was
just outdated, or was it a marketing gimmick by
unscrupulous publishers to prey on my feelings of fluency
inadequacy?
as i was remembering this, a book "caught my eye"
that explains idioms in the american version of the
english language. excitedly, i pulled the it off the
shelf, dropping the spanish book to strike hard-binder-
first the head of stringy, prune-faced middle-aged woman
kneeling at my feet pawing through thai phrasebooks and
trying vainly to fondle my ankles through my boots.
it worked; she yelped in pain and was on her way.
opening the book, i was engrossed. these were phrases
that you and i use, phrases bound to confuse the visitor
to our fair country. i realized now that my spanish
friend had lied to me. it was an international
conspiracy against americans to make us look stupid.
well. i think it's time to "turn the tables" here.
we'll show these "snakes in the grass" that there's
"two sides to a coin".
picture our imaginary foreign friends as they try to
understand the phrases "easy as pie", or "falling all over
myself". can the guests of our great nation manage on
their own to comprehend the inner meanings of "like
pulling teeth", "on cloud nine" and "wasted"?
maybe. but not if i have anything to say about it.
i realized there is only one course of action
for a person of my disposition. i will purchase the
book which explains the american idioms, and i will
memorize as many as i can, peppering my speech with
them whenever i find myself confronted with someone
from a distant land. imagine the laughs! imagine the
looks on the faces of your foreign friends who, fluent
in every other encounter, suddenly find themselves
"scratching their heads" over your verbal "backbreakers"!
you'll "steal the show" and "feel like a million bucks"!
we can fuck with 'em and smile while we're doing it! we
can do our part to sabotage foreign relations and hasten
The Big Showdown, without being accused of anything!
hell, it'll come in handy for talking with other americans.
it'll add character and spice to my normal speaking style.
it'll be like our own private "code language". most americans
are too stupid to understand normal english as it is.
i'm excited, what a great plan! etc. etc.
ok, it's dead already, you get the idea. anyways, it was
pretty goddamn funny to me and janice there in the bookstore
looking through the book.
*Forgive Me* For Sharing,
Resident Whipping Boy
ps -- i could play apologist to brid, but if there's anybody
here who *doesn't* need me to don "kid gloves"...
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 17 Mar 1994 10:55:45 WET
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
Subject: DON'T LOOK AT ME I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE
Dear Lesser,
>if you were alone, in an unfamiliar corner, would
>you prefer it to be in the countryside or the bustling
>city?
I would prefer it to be in the country. In the Hashemite
kingdom of Jordan, to be precise. As you know, this is to
the south of Syria, and the recurrent windstorms would carry
highly toxic gases northwards from my varnished laboratories
near the border and quickly wipe out the entire population.
>...if in the country, would you prefer one on the top
>of a hill, near a quiet lake, or in a pine forest?
At the bottom of a quiet lake, not too warm, with imaginary
fishes of all descriptions getting perfect tens in synchronized
swimming all about me, while the imaginary man-eating ones, with
starched linen napkins and silver fish-knives, set about consuming
my baby elephant.
>...if in the city, would you prefer one in a
>moviehouse, a park, an American Waterstone's Booksellers
>outlet in a beautiful old building in a trendy part of
>town, or a live music club full of hipsters?
All moviehouses have been comandeered by the Syrians for propaganda
purposes. The Syrians stand near park-sundials in trenchcoats striking
attitudes and matches and passing cryptic messages under cover of the
shrubbery. You can tell them only by the colour of their skins. The
Russian attache with whom I am conducting a liaison thinks he has
convinced me that he is not one of Them, but this is not the case. When
I was small, a bookseller once sold me a book, and since then I have been
wary of them. They may well be Syrians. I shoot hipsters on sight.
>and what would you wear?
Anything spiffy (I learned that word from Arthur).
>feel free to provide as many details as possible; but
>don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, either. i
>approach you in complete confidence, dagger concealed.
I do hope I have been of assistance. I have to go now. I'm
leaving for the swamp, to get fever, and I have to catch a train.
h760,
legend
=============================================================
Date: 17 MAR 1994 13:38 -06
From: Merciful Lee Dickens<DICKENS>
Subject: shoe elephant rampage
To: Donkey
I took the cats and went to a Motel 6 last night.
The desk clerk hardly looked up as I signed in.
Kismet and Bucky were keeping perfectly still on my shoulder,
Disguised as a stole.
Chloe was in my pocket, keeping a low profile.
They were happy to finally go somewhere.
It was a vacation to them.
They splashed around in the pool and later
Watched music videos while I looked in the Yellow Pages.
After a minute I found it:
"Bob McElwaine, SHoE ElePHant EXTerminATOR,
Free EstimatEs WidElY DISSEMINATED!"
I called him and spoke with a woman who claimed to be his secretary.
Made the arrangements.
(He's supposed to be out there right now.)
Later, I poured some milk in a saucer for the cats
And I had a glass of Dr. McGillicuddy's Mentholated Schnapps.
Put ten bucks in quarters in the vibrating bed thing...
We all read the Codex Serafinianus until we fell asleep.
When I awoke, I spent a few moments in silence
Theorizing about Daniel Foss.
Then I gave the cats their bath and got dressed:
The green, in honor of Saint Patrick's Day.
Dropped the kitties off at daycare and came in to work.
I have an appointment to meet McElwaine at 4 at the country crib.
I have a sense that something exciting is about to happen.
Don't you?
mld
=============================================================
From: WHIPLASH
Date: Thu, 17 Mar 94 10:25:13 MST
To:Donkey
Subject: Re: MY APOLOGIES, SINCERELY
too late motherfucker
your stoner report was cute
BUT NOT CUTE ENOUGH
and now we're comin' for your gonads
you try an' hide, we'll be under your bed
you know what i think i'll do? i think i'll
forward that story you sent me about that "special"
feeling you get walking barefooted in a goat pen
with the shit squishing excitingly up between your
toes wearing a vaseline-filled wetsuit to all those
jokers at faxon you turned us all on to.
that should make your last week at work a real
*sweet* experience. and scott, if you listen real
close when your boss is tearing you a new asshole,
especially at the "YOU'RE FIRED!!!" part, you can
almost hear violins under there.
i recommend you read *those* credits with the light
*off*, though, babe.
thanks a lot scott. you ruined my whole fucking
day you bastard.
love,
whippy
=============================================================
From: WHIPLASH
Date: Thu, 17 Mar 94 21:06:56 MST
To: Donkey
Subject: you the brides of my heart
Dearest Daniel Foss,
i do not understand you very well. but i do get
a certain amount of the transmission, broken as it
is. i attribute the interference to the same thing
i always attribute it to: my damnation in the eyes
of the Lord or whatever it is that is frivolously
fucking around with All That Stuff Out There, out
there from what is me, a thing i don't really under-
stand either.
i read some of your stuff,
and i think that i am seeing
the shorthand version of the spontaneous odyssey of
a moment
which this FUCKED UP THING called mind is so prone
to and references to things i have not yet heard
of and some emotions. having learned long ago that
i will (almost) never get straight answers about the
stuff that is really important to me from these
people who i most respect, i have sat idly by,
reading about half of your messages over this time,
and hoping that one day in this life or the next i
would find myself in a position to caress all of
these people who i think of as the brides of my
heart.
the asshole upstairs is pounding on the ceiling
of my apartment, and if we're lucky, we won't get
woken up at 12:30am by a domestic altercation like
we did last night. i expect that the details of
my life must seem so distant from you. why is that?
might i interject that the idea that we are all
discrete individuals and my problems are my
problems and your problems are your problems is
absolute bullshit, as far as i am concerned. it
appears to me that "you" and "i" are symptoms of
the same problem. i don't really understand what
i feel about this except to say that there is a
phenomenal failing on every incarnate being's part
(i believe) to fight sucking God's cock when God
comes around telling us all to Be the Lamb of His
Whim.
was i really that wrong with this idea of love
and perfection and paradise? what am i going to do
now? God is asking itself the same questions and
wondering what to tell us all so it doesn't let us
down; what shall it say? and how shall we reply to
best not crucify it on it's own regret, fears and
vanities, nor have it translate all it's guilt and
failure on our shoulders?
what is it you all see that i am missing?
please forgive me for this same-old-fucking-new-guy
shit, but i'm not creative enough to transcend it.
i quit my job in florida, and moved to colorado,
and in doing that, i packed up a lot of stuff that
i had formerly moved around with me from apartment
to apartment like a ball and chain. i packed that
stuff up and stored it away and honestly i cannot
say that i have missed more than 5% of it since last
may.
then i went through this "marriage train wreck"
gig, and i had to leave behind most of everything
else that i had hung on to... the scale had changed,
but the nature of the thing hadn't changed. and
honestly i cannot say that i have missed more than
5% of the 5% since i left denver and came back.
then you all died and reality ended and all the
symbols of plato's world of ideas were erased from
the book of life and i had to pass through the
fire until there was nothing left, not even me.
and i cannot say that i have missed more than 5%
of it since.
even so, i feel the most irritating nagging feeling
that somehow i got left out. something is missing.
i am not complete, *and my strategy for becoming
complete is not complete*.
please don your Buddha Robes, and bestow upon me
eternal peace and tranquility. then brid can
emasculate me for the big BBQ with her halberd.
brid, i trust
you'll do
it
nice
and slow
i had a vision on
nitrous and LSD i
believed in it i believed
in it
much love,
it just won't stop
=============================================================
From: Ukn Mar 17 14:09:35 1994
Date: Thu, 17 Mar 94 11:57:58 MST
To:Donkey
Subject: YEAH! LET'S BEAT SCOTT UP!
i was always picked last for kickball
because everytime i tried to kick that damn
ball, i missed; my leg flew up in the air
like a big, quivering noodle, and i landed
hard on my butt, (just like charlie brown
when lucy would yank the football away)
and everybody would laugh so that at nine
years old i knew what it felt like to DEEPLY
HATE everybody around me, ESPECIALLY the
teachers. so charlie brown grew up to be a
careerist accountant at a major insurance
company--he married his secretary who henpecks
him but he's been fucking his wife's sister
who is another secretary in the same company
in a different department. lucy played
volleyball, softball and basketball in
college and turned homosexual at 26 when she
got promoted to Sales Manager at the local
Honda dealership, where she still works
today--youngest Sales Manager ever in the
Metro Area. Shroeder and Linus broke up last
year and I was fucking Sally in bondage three
times a night until i found out she was sharing
and had hepatitis and i think we should take it
all out on Poor Scott.
Whatever Doesn't Kill Scott Makes Scott Stronger,
(And We Get Some Great Yuks Out of It to Boot!),
Angel of Comfy Mercy
=============================================================
Date: Fri, 18 Mar 1994 13:09:22 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: here's something to post please
Sender: Melanie Willis <GS0383 >
To: Donkey
Some reflections upon life:
Men suck, especially short ones who wear chains and sell rug cleaner. Ithink
all such specimens should be used for entertainment purposes only. Theyshould
be put in a pit with a lion or two, with myself as the audience. I will be
sure to cheer at the appropriate points in the performance. When the show is
done free bottles of rip off rug cleaner will be pelted at what remains ofthe
salesman's little pointed head.
That will teach others like him to stay in their proper place.
Thank you. You've been a wonderful audient. Enjoy the buffet.
=============================================================
From: WHIPLASH
Date: Fri, 18 Mar 94 12:53:31 MST
To:Donkey
Subject: SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!
that was the sound of me slamming the brakes
on my life.
i don't know how long i can deal with this job.
there is a network of interlocking bullshit
here which dwarfs any i've ever seen before or
even heard of...
"who fixes the XYZ Box?"
"Oh, Joe Blow fixes that but he's on vacation."
"well, it's broken and there are a lot of people
who can't work."
"yes, well, i wish i could help you."
"i see. do you know who i can ask who might
know how to fix it?"
"no, i don't. try John Doe. i'm not sure but
he might be able to tell you the name of the
person who is supposed to fix the XYZ box when
it breaks."
+++
"hi John, this is Robert from the help desk. the
XYZ box is broken, and there are lots of people
who can't work. I was told that Joe Blow is
responsible for it, but he's on vacation. Then
your name came up as a possible alternate."
"hm. i think you have to reset the ports to the
box. i could do it right here from my desk in
about one second, but why don't you do it instead?
the manuals are packed in boxes in one of the
storage rooms on the other side of the building,
about 1000 yards to the east. There's only fifteen
storage rooms over there, so you shouldn't have
any trouble finding them. You need a key, though."
"Do you have a key?"
"No, sorry, I don't. I don't know who does, either.
Sorry."
"Do you know who I might ask?"
"No, I don't. I'm not sure, but you can try Jane
Jones. She used to keep the keys five years ago
before her promotion when she worked in another
department on another job over near that part of
the building. Maybe she can help you."
"Great. Thanks John."
+++
"Jane, this is Robert from the help desk. I need to
get a key to the Storage rooms over on the East side
of the building so that I can find the Manuals to
a piece of equipment here which has broken and is
holding up a lot of people. Do you have the keys?"
"Why yes Robert, I do, but I need authorization. My
computer does the authorization, but it stopped
working a few minutes ago."
"Oh. What is the name of your computer, Jane?"
"Migraine."
"Hm... ok, yes, that is one of the machines that
routes through the XYZ Box, which is the device I
need the manuals for from the storage room. Is
there any way I can just have you walk me down to
the storage rooms to get the manuals?"
"Well, actually, I was just sitting here filing my
nails, and I don't have anything else to do here for
the rest of the day. I could very easily take you
over to the storage rooms, and have sex with you
once in every room for the rest of the afternoon, and
nobody would even notice I'm gone. But instead, I
think I'll just say no. Sorry. You can get Security
to let you in, but you'll have to fill out the forms
and have your boss sign them. Then you send them
through and it usually takes about a week."
"Oh no. Well I... oh, Jane? I have another call.
can you hold, please?"
"OK."
+++
"Help Desk, this is Robert."
"Robert, hi this is John Doe. I just realized that
I upgraded the XYZ box a few weeks ago, and all the
documentation is new. I have it, it's here in my
office."
"Oh, terrific! OK, let me come down there and pick
it up."
"OK, bye."
+++
"Jane, sorry, it turns out I'm not going to need that
key after all. Sorry to bother you."
"Well, OK, but this is the second time I've gotten a
call from the Help Desk this month. Aren't we paying
you people to solve *our* problems? I really don't
understand why the people there on your end couldn't
handle this without me."
"Yes, Jane, I realize it's very frustrating for you.
I'll bring that up with the rest of the Help Desk
staff and we'll see what we can do about improving
that."
"OK, fine. Bye."
"Bye."
+++
"Hi John, I'm Robert, I'm here to look at the manuals
for the XYZ Box."
"Hi Robert. Here they are. The thing is, see here?
This page is the page which describes resetting the
ports, it's just what you need. But the Customer
Resource Logistics Focus Team Role Committee and
Core Objectives Group Oversight Planning Team Group
Committee Group distributed a memo--"
"Oh, is that the team group team team that meets
every seven and a half minutes in room 14x31z221a?"
"No, it's the team TEAM group group team that meets
every seven minutes and *34 seconds* in room 211297-
2-2-2-2-21--1-1-2-alsjfalsfjaflkljlkj1231312132123.
Anyways, they've decided that we no longer support
the XYZ Box port resetting features. Everything else
is our bailiwick, but the ports are the responsibility
of Building Port Services/Hall Butt Sniffer-Scratchers."
"Ah. Well, don't we route tasks for them through our
Team Leaders?"
"Yes, but all the Team Leaders are on vacation for the
rest of their lives. It looks like you'll just have to
find another solution."
+++
I walk over to the XYZ Box, take a firm grip on the
power cable going into the wall and...
<ring, ring>
"Help Desk, this is Robert."
"Hi I'm an inconsequential peon disguised as a major
corporate honcho. Every electrical device in the
Industrialized World just stopped working. Can you
check the XYZ Box?"
==========================================================
Date: Fri, 18 Mar 1994 12:20:34 -0500 (EST)
From: <LIBWCA>
Subject: Naw, Jane Beckman's cool
To: Donkey
Jane was one of the few people on the Bee lost who didn't entirely
freak when we invaded. Some of you will remember her megagroove
Bee Mythology post, which somehow drew the wrath of the Guardians
of Orthodoxy at the same time they were attacking us. I sent her
an apology, since we got her flamed unjustly, and received this
perfectly reasonable reply:
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Wed, 15 Dec 93 10:37:17 PST
From: Jane Beckman <jane@>
To: <LIBWCA>
Subject: Re: Apology
I accept your apology. (I was actually rather amused by the vespoid
conspiracy stuff.)
Careful of what you do with lists---some of us have been badly burned
in the past by people who have invaded lists/newsgroups and generally
made themselves troublesome. (I have the dubious distinction of having
had rape wished upon me by a self-proclaimed neo-Nazi who invaded one
list for a while and accused people of being "prejudiced against him"
while being generally hate-mongering toward all.) A lot of folks get
flinchy, after a while.
Best,
Jane Beckman
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I fell desperately, unspeakably in love her at once, of course. I knew,
though, that it could never be (so to speak). A Bee-mythologist and a
roving internet guerilla/tragically hip poetaster? What kind of a life
could we make together? How would the other children treat little
Jane, Jr. on the playground? Children can be so cruel. No, I resigned
myself to worshiping Jane from afar, like the Knights of Olden Times
and all those other groovy cats in literary history. This being the
case, I would of course feel obliged to duel to the Grisly Death with
anyone who harmed a hair on her lovely, bee-mythologizing head. And
don't none of you want to duel to the Grisly Death avec moi, as I
cheat. Badly.
And anyway, I should be angry that my last incarnation is now preserved
forever in amber stick-um on the Bee list? Angry? Hell, I'm an
immortal over there. I'm and Ubermensch. I'm the guy. Shaka.
Barney T. Devil
==========================================================
Date: Fri, 18 Mar 94 01:33:32 EST
From: <TIPPY>
Subject: The Weight of the Word
To: Donkey
Mr. Devil,
I wish to complain about the shoddy treatment of my children at the
hands of one your employees, namely a Mr. Commander Zod, currently
the graveyard shift manager at one of your many fine Barney T. Devil
carwashes now blanketing the globe and coming soon to a corner near
you. When my wife and I left our three children unattended for a
weekend at one of your conveniently located establishments, we quite
naturally assumed that the aforementioned Mr. Commander Zod would
see to their well-being and ensure that they received their recommended
daily allowance of just desserts in a clean, well lit environment.
Imagine, IF YOU CAN!, our dismay when, after a whirlwind tour of the
seedier districts of Mexico City in search of financial backing for
a business venture of questionable legality, we were informed by your
Mr. Commander Zod that he had no idea where they were! Further, he
claimed to have been unaware of their presence there at any time!
Indeed! Fortunately the wife had the foresight to scrawl this illegibly
on the side of a passing train, so you can see we are in full compliance
of the law. I should expect to hear from several disembodied voices in
regards to this matter. Perhaps you should as well.
Creeping Beauty
=============================================================
From WHIPLASH
Date: Fri, 18 Mar 94 08:15:15 MST
To: Donkey
Subject: you the brides of my heart
was i really that wrong with this idea of love
and perfection and paradise? what am i going to do
now? God is asking itself the same questions and
wondering what to tell us all so it doesn't let us
down; what shall it say? and how shall we reply to
best not crucify it on it's own regret, fears and
vanities, nor have it translate all it's guilt and
failure on our shoulders? it's too bad about my
dream; it was a great dream. everybody being in
love and all that hippy shit...
i quit my job in florida, and moved to colorado,
and in doing that, i packed up a lot of stuff that
i had formerly moved around with me from apartment
to apartment like a ball and chain. i packed that
stuff up and stored it away at a space in U-Stor-It
on Busch Blvd. in Tampa and honestly i cannot say
that i have missed more than 5% of it since last
May.
then i went through this "marriage train wreck"
gig, and i had to leave behind most of the remainder
that i had hung on to... the scale had changed,
but the nature of the thing hadn't changed. and
honestly i cannot say that i have missed more than
5% of the 5% since i left denver and came back.
then you all died and reality ended and all the
symbols of plato's world of ideas were erased from
the book of life and i had to pass through the
fire until there was nothing left, not even me.
and i cannot say that i have missed more than 5%
of it since.
even so, i feel the most irritating nagging feeling
that somehow i got left out. something is missing.
i am not complete, and my strategy for becoming
complete is not complete.
please don your Buddha Robes, and bestow upon me
eternal peace and tranquility. then brid can
emasculate me for the big BBQ with her halberd.
brid, i trust
you'll do
it
nice
and slow
i had a vision on
nitrous and LSD i
believed in it i believed
in it
much love,
The Boy Who Had a Magnifying Glass For a Head
=============================================================
Date: Mon, 21 Mar 1994 21:15:16 -0500 (EST)
From: "E.J. Ford CFS" <FORD>
Subject: Re: shuttled from person to person and never get noplace
To: Donkey
Your evident confusion about my present whereabouts is touching me in all
the right places. I am happy to say that it is the duck that knows where
the orange sauce is kept. Wink-wink.
The elephant is on the wing. Here in Tampa, we have had two elephant
handlers killed at our local zoo over a period of several years.
Honest. You can have that one, but he is quite large. You will have to
do the math to figure out if he is elegible for your purposes. I am
ashamed to say that his dimensions are in (how ironic) english, rather
than metric units, but I have provided a conversion for you (and anyone
who can figure out the comedy team that generated this english/metric
conversion should be shot):
the elephant is 15ft8in at the shoulder and 12ft6in accross.
61.4meters by 35meters.
E. John Ford III,
Esquinkle.
=============================================================
Date: Mon, 21 Mar 1994 16:06:41 -0500 (EST)
Subject: It's A Wonderful Life!!!
Sender: "Can't Milk the Cow 'Til You Get To The Barn."
<00bcpalmer>
To: Donkey
Wah-hoo!!!
This time next month I'll be in California living on Goldbar Street.
I said to the real estate lady I said I wanna house I can rent and then buy
so I don't have to move twice. It has a Great Room. His and hers walk-in
closets. A Pantry.
I go for training in Omaha 4-8 Apr. Melissa is quitting her job.
in addition to salary and a guaranteed (sp?) commission they are justoutright
*paying* me to join their corporation. That's right. here's a check brent,
please sign with us.
Familiar places. familiar faces. indeed when Lesser makes it by, I'll beable
to show him High California.
I am flying so high I can't breathe. Hope I'm not making y'all sick.
I'm gonna have to telnet into this account until I can get something set
up in CA. Please feel free to wonder whether I really ever *left* Indiana.(!)
Brent "Mr. Charade" <Pollux>
hearing bells
=============================================================
From: WHIPLASH
Date: Mon, 21 Mar 94 18:46:10 MST
To: Donkey
Subject: truck driver
a friend of mine recently reminded me of
something i once said when we were in high
school together.
i told him that i was considering becoming
a truck driver. that way, every day, first
thing i'd do when i woke up would be to
leave town.
r
=============================================================
From: WHIPLASH
Date: Mon, 21 Mar 94 11:39:59 MST
To: Donkey
Subject: surely goodness and mercy...
> From rdh Mon Mar 21 11:33:58 1994
> Date: Mon, 21 Mar 94 11:33:53 MST
> To: dp
> Subject: yeah, well...
>
> i know you're right, but i'm sick of
> hearing about how fucked up i am. i won't
> bother you like that anymore. i'm not mad
> at you, i'm just tired of hearing bad things
> about myself. i've heard more than enough
> bad stuff like that in the past eight months
> than anybody should ever have to listen to,
> and if i'm so fucked up, i think i'll just
> go be fucked up by myself where i don't
> have to hear about how miserable i'm making
> everybody and what a drag i am.
>
> i know you care and i know your right, and
> i know i'm going to have to do something
> about my drinking soon, before it totally
> fucks up my life. but i see flaws in my
> friends and i pretty much overlook them or
> tell myself they aren't important. i usually
> don't rub their noses in their shortcomings.
> i just don't need to hear any more negative
> shit about myself right now, no matter how
> true it is.
>
> thanks for caring, i know only a friend would
> tell me the hard truth. but if you walked in
> my shoes over this hard time i've been through,
> i think you might understand what i'm trying
> to say. i mean, it's not like i'm just not
> trying.
>
> well, i gotta go.
>
> rob
>
...just thought i'd take a moment to share this with
you and brighten your day since yer all so quiet.
yours,
that's MISTER Lush to you
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Mar 94 11:21 GMT
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
Subject: RE: surely goodness and mercy...
Dear Robert Holder,
I appreciated your generosity in forwarding to us your message
to an unknown friend, and, in an attempt to emulate your sharing
attitude, I enclose my latest message to my Grandmamma. Following
your precedent, I am avoiding the use of capital letters.
I hope this measure may encourage you in the publication of
all future material of an epistolatory nature.
h760
*****Included Message:
dearest grandmamma,
commencing as always with an affirmation
of my eternal wish that your health should be stable and
your spirits uplifted, i proceed now to make known my
deep gratitude for the $2 sent to me on the 17th of this
month.
in accordance with what would, i am sure, be your
wishes, i have donated one half of the sum to the Church,
and handed the remaining coins to the first beggar whom i
met as i left the weekly meeting of the ladies' sewing circle,
dismissing his protestations of gratitude and exhorting him
to abandon his dissolute lifestyle and, as many before him
have done, better himself in auburn, or another of the
provincial universities.
please ensure that this year's easter egg is of
*plain* chocolate, as last year's egg made me feel quite poorly.
your devoted descendant,
h760
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 16:35:52 WET
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
Dear Robert Holder,
My silence was occasioned by a brief spell away from this
terminal, "I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE" signified only that the
evil witch with three heads who dreamed me that night was a particularly
nasty one, and my lamentable oversight with regard to your rejection
slip has now been remedied.
I trust all is now well.
h760
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Mar 94 16:15 GMT
From: H.UNIATZ
To: Donkey
>it was a JOKE, it was supposed to end in an EXCLAMATION MARK,
>you were supposed to LAUGH it was not supposed to be MOROSE.
Dear Robert Holder,
Thank you for your recent submission, "about that truck driver
thing...", herewith enclosed. It is our policy to allow no such overt
authorial manipulation of the reader's response. We should appreciate
it if you were in future to indicate in good time whether your material
is intended for the "Dear Melanie" problem-page or the "Ford Funnies"
section for items of a supposedly humorous nature.
We hope to hear from you again.
h760
Rejection Dept
=============================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 16:45:06 -0500 (EST)
Subject: resend
Sender: "Can't Milk the Cow 'Til You Get To The Barn."
<00bcpalmer>
To: Donkey
Subj: Re: Glory | A detailed response
Enter your message below. Press CTRL/Z when complete, or CTRL/C to quit:
A generous reader writes:
>yer not makin' me sick brent. congrats, congrats! i'm
>sure you deserve your good fortune, and we're all most
>proud of you.
Indeed after years of suffering beyond what any other human could have/would
have endured, such suffering as inspires the scattered-alphabet poetry of
suicides written with one's bones dispelled across the page of life afterbeing
dropped from the highness of Low, as opposed to the highness of HighCalifornia
-- Indeed I do deserve a good spin on the wheel of fortune. I'll take an"s,"
Vanna.
The reader quotes from the motion picture _Patton_:
"In Ancient Roman times, the conquering king would lead his
vanquished rival through the streets of the city in chains,
bearing his new crown, and as the conquered king crowned
his foe, he would whisper in the victor's ear that all glory
is fleeting."
Dear gentle and kind sir who has also suffered the sling and arrows et al,the
difference between general patent and me is not in that we are neither notboth
eccentric. I expect to greet my crew every morning by saying "merry merry!"...
I will probably have a tarot and tea hour during which, if anyoneinterrupts,
they will be forced to play me in chess -- blindfolded!!! There is a *big*
difference between Patton and me though, and I don't mean just that my dickis
much bigger -- The war never ends in computer sales! Add glory to glory,dear
Rob, for the war renews itself as surely as the seasonal blooming of central
California's wildflowers.
Computers are unconditional love. They are more loyal than canines.
I will be working in a job in a state of grace. Although I understand
your point, really, and I fully expect the tanning salon to have lost record
of the several hours I still have as credit.
>Have A Perrier On Me,
>rob
Actually, I prefer the Sundance Kiwi-Lime Sparklers. Somebody help me bring
rob out of the Seventies and into the monolith, please. After all, it is
full of stars. Thanks in "general" [hah ahh hah hah] for your message of
support. We corporate types do need to stick together ... That's why I wear
Right Guard Sports Fresh Scent and Eternity by Calvin Klein [sp?] ... You
will remember my smell as though I were your uberfather.
Oobers,
B. Clark Palmer, Esq.
Just a friendly shark, er, guy in your neighborhood.
p.s. God I love women.
==================================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Mar 94 19:13:42 EST
From: "Daniel A. Foss" <DFOSS@CCVM.sunysb.edu>
Organization: State University of New York at Stony Brook
Subject: just subscribed to dqmw-l and...
To: Donkey
Just subscribed to DQMW-L, and this is to survey the status of the
political project--after Tippy's brilliant albeit instinctive political
tactics, more than ever I feel out of shape, obsolete--I'd like to know
what, if any, political interventions remain.
By "political," let me clarify a bit, is meant here the objectively
rational stance adopted, indeed exemplified by Tippy. By contrast to that
of Robert Holder in his self-justification addressed to Bee-Man, which I
consider Wrong Thinking, possibly for being unformed, inchoate.
The praxis corresponding to the Theory, which doesn't exist, is the
destruction of spurious sense made by Them, out there, who are taking-for-
granted that *sense must be made* and made at all costs, despite the
objective noncorrespondence of sense made of Reality, reality ideologically
mediated, to objective social reality. Any attempt by us, including this
post, to make sense, if only to ourselves, is politically incorrect. Herein
lies, and lies through its teeth, the grievous politcal error made bycomrade
lizzy, due to remorseless & relentless logic; also, because her head is
screwed up. Last night, a major debate was held, as part of ParanoidHeritage
Month, on the question, can one's head be screwed up for reasons having
*nothing to do* with White Capitalist Patriarchy, that is, are weconstituted
as essentially Paranoid for reasons *orthogonal* to White Capitalist
Patriarchy such that our Paranoid Self is prior to, and persists without,
any Them, out to get us? Sadly, yet proudly, we hail; we sleet.
I have no television. If caught by Them, my cover story is, I have been
sent by H760, under an assumed name of course, on its last inspection tour,
to carry out an Assignment, which is to ascertain why your civilization
watches television. We ourselves are unable to watch television. It zips
about, using transitions of video display and parts of the spectrum ofvisible
light we are unable to process; its what you call in your culture*narrative*
structure we are incapable of following. I accordingly, what you call
*deconstruct*, the what you call *decentered meaning* of this television.
This I do from posts to DQMW-L. To be sure, I could *buy a television*,
listening to the sound, only. But as this would entail *entering* what you
call stores, and as your authoriies as well as ours counsel us - the three
of us on the premises of your civilization - to "keep a low profile," this
might be too risky. Besides, how could I amass data as to why you, outthere,
as I would address Them, watch it, when we cannot, should we want to,whatever
is meant by want to, which, fundamentally, we do not.
I assure you, I continue, addressing Them, that the other two, likemyself,
are holders of the degree equivalent to PhD in your culture. Like me, they
are in hiding, as you, as members of your civilization, could not tolerate
without elaborate cultural reconditioning, the sight of us. Not to mention
the sound of our imitations of your language. My degree is in the "sociology
of humans," you might call it; the other male [just added to my distribution
list - daf] took his in Mathematics, is now in Paris, and I cannotcommunicate
with him for some mysterious reason possibly related to incompetence in
French; he goes by the name Adler <adler@dmi.ens.fr>. The female tookher
degree in Future Studies of Human Societies; will not communicate withmales,
as is the custom among us as it is in many human cultures such as those of
the Arabs, the Iranians, and the New Guineans, should either the male or the
female or both be not mated to each other. The female studies Sexism, which
she will, she says, abolish unassisted; she claims Powers which paralyze
resistance in persons of your civilization. She may be correct, or she may
have made an error of logic, who can say; her legal name, in terms of your
law, is Doctress Neutopia, which seems contrary to our official Manual Of
Relations With Advanced Civilization, or <neutopia@educ.umass.edu>.
Perhaps you should warn Them that I am among them, excerpting the above
text. They will be grateful for the exposure of a Creature more disruptive,
howbeit as yet in potentio, than yourselves.
Making valiant effort to restore old form and vision, as yet in vain.
Militant Have A Nice Day, Comrades,
Daniel A. Foss
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Mar 94 08:25:52 MST
To:Donkey
From: Whiplash
Subject: wise men say only fools rush in
well well well.
it seems that last night was a bit out on the edge
of the bell curve there.
i picked janice up at work and she had decided that
she wanted to shoot some pool and drink at a place
called "tequila sunrise".
i ended up singing elvis with a biker named "cary"
to the laser karoake.
WHAT A FUCKING TRIP THAT WAS LET ME TELL YOU.
halfway through "freedom '90" by george michael
with janice (her pick) when she "lost her concentration"
i didn't get perturbed; no. i just launched into a
sermon about how mastercard and visa are controlling
our destinies, our souls are on fire and the very
concept of freedom is a joke. and i accomplished this
without using any polysyllabic words! they
ended up killing my microphone and making me go
sit down.
well it was quite a laugh. as we left, i got
into an argument with the biker's buddy. he said
he met the devil a few days ago and had the chance
to kill him, but didn't. he was getting himself
all tuned up for the next time he got the chance.
i, of course, told him that he had to learn love,
kindness, etc., while he's quoting from ezekiel and
shit telling me about killing the devil out there
on the porch of this bar completely out of our fucking
heads. i actually ended up barking at him; "you WILL
learn kindness! you WILL learn kindess!" it's
definitely a recommended tourist attraction during
your next incarnation.
meanwhile, janice was drowning in incoherent sobs
because she misses her lover so much. on this point,
i can say that i acted like a gentleman. i soothed
her woes, dropped our biker friends off, got her to
stop crying quite so hard, got her upstairs, put her
in bed and gave her two tylenol and a big glass of
water. she made little wounded sounds all night and
a few this morning.
She's So Sweet When She Makes Those
Little Wounded Sounds,
rob
=============================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Mar 1994 15:54:50 -0500 (EST)
From: AP <LIBALP>
Subject: exotic bad puns from the middle east
To: Donkey
Rollins, you always treat me like an expert in an attempt to curry favor
with me.
Please let the door hit you on the ass on yr way out, and tell the next
patient to cumin.
arthur
=============================================================
Date: 23 MAR 1994 15:27 -06
From: Merciful Lee Dickens<DICKENS>
Subject: LIGHTNING FAST REPARTEE
To: Donkey
>
> curry
> cumin.
arthur
*** Comments from ZAPMAN; 03/23/94 03:22pm:
Marjoram you say?
I can't basil you!
Allspice me again or I'll have to
Fennel it out for myself!
Har!
Got A Cabinet Full Of 'Em!
Dickens
=============================================================
Date: 23 MAR 1994 09:52 -06
From: Merciful Lee Dickens<DICKENS>
Subject: IMPRESSIVE NODE
To:Donkey
Ironically, I was not admitted to Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman-L.
It was most likely because I subscribed with
SUBSCRIBE DQMW-L YOUR FULL NAME
I'll try again later. Is it happening? Is it shaking?
Who of you are subscribed? Lesser, are you Suzanne? If so, well
done!
Welcome TIPPY. Glad you've defected from the petty war. Fnord
sucks out loud these days. Yours were the only amusing posts, the few
times I peed in its grimy windows. Oh, I think I meant to say peeked.
Dr. Quimm, Medicinal Hosebag
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