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=======================================================================
Date: Thu, 1 Jul 1993 22:05:33 EDT
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: "Daneil A. Foss" <DFOSS@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: anent quote cecil unquote
To: Multiple recipients of list FNORD-L <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
Allow me to say that whoever or whatever is doing 'Cecil' is quite good andshould be encouraged to continue. Please continue to keep it *short*. The"assignment" and allusions to myself have, I am pleased to note, having reachedor exceeded saturation, were clearly recognized as such and remediated by thecurrent writer or writers; and this without any intervention by myself or otherStaff.
Ah, as you know, Mr. Brandon Tartikoff has joined this Network as ExecutiveVice-President for Entertainment. Can we tell him that there'll be a pilotready for a prime time series slot in the fall? ******************** PLEASEIGNORE THE ABOVE, THIS POST IS ACTUALLY A TEST! ******************** See, someof us were unable to stand up in the Undrugged condition for a week and aftercashing the script this evening found 598 pcs e-mail on RDRLIST (never use MAILCMND for reading the stuff; never have) whereof in excess, really excessiveexcess, of 400 were from leri@pyramid.com, yes, i really did, on account of,you know, not every, hardly any, uh, well, has the fnorditude for thenegativity, to be simplistic, of the requisite precursors of a true New Way ofThinking, which like sorta implies that the positivity [?] currently appealingto the Broadest Possible Masses musn't get lost track of, even by Clueless, asthey call me, postmenopausal dweebs, as they call me, you're only young onceand only as old as you feel, feel Dying, actually, but Dr A says it's supposedto be Static, what can you do, in any case cannot, as we used to say before youwere born, Relate To It. Now, it would appear that when the e-mail has cloggedan ACCT to such a pass as when DRANO fails yet ROTO-ROOTER hasn't come or ismenopausal, then one's lists will involuntarily UNSUBSCRIBE, in the latestversion of the list processor without the Listowner or its representativehaving be annoyed. Wherefore, this is SENDed, but if nobody is annoyed but thiswriter, then you are all on FNORD-L or not but this ACCT most certainly is not.babble babble babble....
This was a test, please ignore.
Daniel A. Foss
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 2 Jul 1993 10:37:02 EDT
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: General Mills <LIBALP>
Organization: Marshmallows for the Original Disturbance
Subject: Wisdom of Tim Vol.5
If one of your thoughts can be _isolated_ away from your self, like the
sound of a radio, you can produce thoughts that you possibly couldn't of
produced own your own in the present state of mental awareness. This can be
produced by any mechanical device where a form of radio, t.v., or other
wave that is sent across a distance.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anything you want is possible, you just got to do it. Everything in the
universe is exchangable with everything else.
Everything around you is your existence. What is around you is what your
mind is made of at that particular time. Color is what controls dead.
What is in a book is what you can use that will work.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The product of the mind is the factor of the mind. There are, I speak
truthfully, nothing in existence but the mind changing things by his own
thoughts.
The plutonium get mad, just like if it were of matter unto nothing but
its own. Matter of nothing but the element its self.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
MOD - "As red, white, and blue as Mom's 200-year-old apple pie" since they
sold the farm to the Kennedys.
gm
============================================================
Date: Tue, 6 Jul 1993 04:26:32 EDT
From: CECIL@CECILS.BIRDCAGE.EMPORIUM
Subject: HUSH, DEAR, I'M HERE NOW
Dear C. William Anderson,
Did you bring me back a stick of rock? Merciful Lee Dickens did, only he hadto bribe a passing motorist with it when he ran out of oil crossing the longeststretch of desert. Or so he said. I know he brought back sticks of rock forhis friendies on JAZZ-L, but I would feel really bad if I let myself believe hejust forgot *me*.
yours trustingly,
Cecil
============================================================
Date: Tue, 6 Jul 1993 08:23:06 EDT
From: CECIL@CECILS.PARASOL.STALL
Subject: Re: where'd all the good cartoons go?
Dear Robert Holder, I remain fretful over colour changes. Can you tell me howit was that you learnt what the changes signify? It is always north, so thedirection does not matter, but the changes must. When amber becomes red, Iknow that a train approaches and that I must give way. Yesterday, at BreakQuarry, amber became ice-blue. I scrambled for my highway code. The trainleft the rails and came northwards steaming and chugging over the viaduct'sedge. When ice-blue had become amber again, I was mostly limbless. How do Iadjust the spectrum of experience to deal with purple if one day it changesagain?
Cecil
====================================================================
Date: Wed, 7 Jul 1993 04:41:47 EDT
From: CECIL@CECILS.CORPORATE.BROOMCUPBOARD
Subject: Re: Something else Bo knows...
Dear Bo Jackson, I remember that slow, overcast afternoon. August, 1953. The100 yards. The quick, furtive flick of Jesus' robe that tripped me headlong.He crossed the line before me, broke the tape. I said nothing. He took theprize. With twisted ankle, I won the egg-and-spoon race, but that held littleglory. The bishop had retreated to the tea-tent and Mother was at thebric-a-brac stall. The 100 yards was the big one. So, yes, I too rememberJesus. And you, I remember you. Your shirt incorrectly buttoned as you gave apoetry reading. Your own work. The vicar coming up behind me. "Oh, howsweet! Cecil, why can't you be more like...?" That was the year theycancelled my birthday for the funeral of our neighbour's parrot.
Cecil
====================================================================
Date: Wed, 7 Jul 1993 08:27:14 EDT
From: CECIL@CECILS.BIG.LABORATORY
Subject: HE STOOPS TO CONARTISTRY
Dear Hamp McGhechaw,
Please do not feel so badly. Maintain self-respect like the nuns taught me youshould. I had to purloin your neckerchief. It was required in order toinsulate the copper wire running between the jar of saltpetre and the deadmagpie. For my little assignment.
yours ever, Cecil
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Date:Wed, 7 Jul 1993 10:29:39 EDT
From: CECIL@CECILS.FISHING.HOLE
Subject: DEAR BUDDY BROWN
Dear Mr. Brown, Mr. Dickens says that you are in need of a chum. So am I.Perhaps we could be chums together. I think that I would be a better chum thanthe sort of person that gets in Mr. Dickens's way. I would never get in Mr.Dickens's way, because then he might not help me. With my little assignment.
Chums 4-ever, Cecil
====================================================================
Date:Wed, 7 Jul 1993 10:03:00 -05
Reply-To: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: Something I bet Bo
Dear Cecil,
I remember your neighbor's parrot. In fact, I remember her quite well. And alltoo clearly for my tenuous toehold on the sheer precipitous face of laughingsanity, I remember the long hours I spent with a damp rag, mopping her steamybrow and proffering a reassuring eleemosynary finger for her to clutch in thosemoments of her greatest chaotic perplexity. I wake screaming in the night evennow with the spectral vision of her agonized death throes, when that mysteriousmalais turned fatal and claimed her gentle feathered soul. I was at herperchside when she stirred feebly from her fever dream and squawked "Polly wanta priest! Polly want a priest!" In her delirious need for Absolution, shemistook me for that Infant So Tender And Mild and confessed to me that whichhas, in turn, haunted my dreams ever since.
She was more than just a neighbor's parrot, wasn't she, Cecil (you reprobate)?She held a far greater significance to you than the simple facade of her modeststation in life would belie, would not she've, oh (deceptive) Cecil? In Truth,she was ever so much more so, wasn't she (you scurvy blackguard)? Oh, don'tdeny it - I've seen copies of the autopsy reports, you heinous crud!
For I put to you now, Cecil, Corrupt Perfidious Cecil, that that neighbor'sparrot was NOT a neighbor's parrot at all, but was in fact NONE OTHER than yourown retarded sister and daughter, Agnes Gash!
So, how you gonna act now, tough guy, now that it's out in the open? Hmm?
My Love To Beanie,
Merciful
====================================================================
Wed, 7 Jul 1993 10:26:10 EDT
Reply-To: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: CECIL@CECILS.GAMBLING.HELL.AND.DEN.OF.MICE
Subject: YAH BOO HUMBUG
Young Master Merciful, Agnes Gash is alive and well, but for a recurring throatinfection, and living in sin with a Mr G. Smithers of 242 Pretasis Place,Crookshank County. Could you possibly be confusing myself with one of yourdelinquent buddies who sport flick-knives and birds of dubious ornitologicalprovence?
"using evening primrose oil to combat wrinkles since the early nineteenthcentury"
Cecil
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Date: Wed, 7 Jul 1993 12:00:24 -0500
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: Ray Buttoned <Ray@CECIL'S.IMAGINARY.FRIEND.ORG>
Organization: Cecil's Head
Subject: A Slow Parrot Squawk
Dear Cecil,
Kitty-kitty in the sky, with God above and angels high. The boy who killed heris a pig, who stinks real bad and does a jig.
Ex-Celsius, Day-O.
"When my baby, when my baby kisses me, I go to Rio di Janerio..."
Barump-pah-pah-pah.
Earwax follicle, dirty, double-dealer, seed-stealer, stealth bomber, hangar,abortion, locust, grave diggin', party in the first part, down the middle, afield where lightning strikes twice, sphincter tightly holding, shakes my hand,running, pool, jewel, paddle boats and dead swans, rubber ducky, choked herwith my own hands, reading Duras and arguing loudly, walked out of the stationand sat down and wept, her eyes tear my heart apart, stupid lout, poetry liar,should be ashamed, blamed, maimed, eaten and shit out, like who I was, who wereyou, Betty Blue, digested mind, satin torn, saturn shorn, that is what shemeant, degrading you as I want to be degraded
you deserve a spike in your vein that should be grabbed as the heat hits youand pushed through your flesh and pulled out ripping you and your idioticpretensions of what It's really all about, tear the rest with my teeth, andhope you understand that pain is just your simple fear of truth
Your friend,
Ray Buttoned
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Date: Wed, 7 Jul 1993 12:06:35 EDT
Reply-To: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: CECIL@CECILS.BARBED.WIRE.ENCLOSURE
Subject: Re: A Slow Parrot Squawk
Dear Ray Buttoned, No more Jim Thompson for you till you regain a littlestability: hone it all down to the death of a kitty-kitty that never reallylived, and, God, there'll be marshmallows a-flyin' for your disturbance beforesundown in the whiplash/rocky horror showpiece; undoubtedly crabbed thesepretensions but thus safe as an edgewise staircase walk -- "this kid so messedup // even my imaginary friend left me for another child" -- go, Ray, you cando it, go, Go, GO! Versi-fie!
ray is the pain in cecil's head,
ray won't scram till cecil's dead;
momma didn't hear what ray just said,
so she tucked him cosy in cecil's bed,
fed him cecil's milk and bread,
like he were her son instead;
if cecil shakes in the oven's depth,
till the gas turns dense and stops his breath,
who'll wake up in the morning?
Cecil
====================================================================
Date: Wed, 7 Jul 1993 15:30:24 -0500
Reply-To: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.cc.buffalo.edu>
From: Ray Buttoned <ray@CECIL'S.SCREAMING.NIGHTMARE.ORG>
Organization: Cecil's Spinal Column
Subject: Here's what we do....
> hone it all down to the death of a kitty-kitty that never really lived,and,
> God, there'll be marshmallows a-flyin' for your disturbance before sundownin > the whiplash/rocky horror showpiece; undoubtedly crabbed thesepretensions > but thus safe as an edgewise staircase walk -- "this kid somessed up //
> even my imaginary friend left me for another child" -- go, Ray, you can do
> it, go, Go, GO! Versi-fie! ray is the pain in cecil's head, ray won'tscram
> till cecil's dead; momma didn't hear what ray just said, so she tucked him
> cosy in cecil's bed, fed him cecil's milk and bread, like he were her son
> instead; if cecil shakes in the oven's depth, till the gas turns dense and
> stops his breath, who'll wake up in the morning?
You have misstepped, allowing me the moment to put my knife inside of you,pretty thing that you are.
I don't want to talk about the cat, Cecil. That's old. Dead. Forgotten. We'vegot too many other things to settle. Like how're we going to get out of here?Do we just stay here forever, amusing the other kids who think they laugh atthe same thing we're laughing at? I'll admit it, chum, I'm starting to getscared. Things keep slipping by, we keep pretending everything's alright, butwe're both scared, aren't we? You can tell me. I won't tell anybody else.
It's not like I'm going to cry, or anything like that. But, it's just notfair, Cecil. They PROMISED! I won't take your stuff. They made me pretendabout your momma thing. You can wake up, too, if you want to. I just don'twant to stay here anymore. "I gotta go, I gotta go, the bomb in thebreadbasket is ready to blow..." Bloody star, bloody star. Every man andwoman is a bloody star. So cold, cold, cold carbon floating in nothingness.Tiger beast riding through the sky; Tiamat on high. Yap, like Notker, yap,yap, yap... They still won't let me go. It's unfair to not let me raise myhand and let them know what I've got to tell them.
Yes, it's true, there is no little assignment.
You are dirty and not honorable. You have dog breath. Loosen the top buttonon that collar of yours and stop picking your nose. There, that's better.
Ray Buttoned
====================================================================
Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1993 06:13:06 EDT
Reply-To: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: CECIL@CECILS.PRAYER.HUT
Subject: TELL ME IF I'M STILL AFRAID
Dear Tim, There is a voice named Ray. It dwells in my head and tells Motherthings that she must not know. It is trying to scare me. The note you left onthe third tree told me that my assignment was to maintain the facade of anassignment at all times. Daniel Foss is helping me. He says he will deliverthe requested items and we shall have fresh soup. Ray says there is noassignment. When I turned on the toaster, Ray spoke from it and told me to killthe cat. Now the cat is dead and Ray has the big knife and I cannot finishweaving the carpet until Robert Holder has told me which colour is right. Raysays there is no way out. You promised me that I would be safe here from thedread brought on by the delusion of freedom. Then Ray came. Please may I havean imaginary crocodile instead? Nokter said "when I want you I type zzzz". NowI am swiftly typingzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Cecil
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Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1993 10:55:06 EDT
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: <LIBALP>
Subject: PRETTY RABBITS
Some pretty rabbits
Their lovely wives
Do not fill or molest
I put that in myself
Colonel Rollins
I put that in myself
Chicken baloney
Fuckin' loser
Same as always
Moon pie
Same as always
Valves Eggroll Keystone
Do not fill or molest
BP station
Look at that turn signal
Beautiful view
What's wrong with him
Same as always
Why don't he wanna do right?
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1993 13:51:26 -0500
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: Perdurabo's Nephew <LESSER>
Subject: TO ALL THE GOITERS I'VE LOVED BEFORE
TO QUOTE RILKE, ON HIS RESPONSE TO SOME CATTY REMARKS RODIN TOSSED OUT ABOUT
HIM IN SOCIAL CONVERSATION (AS TRANSLATED BY YOURS TRULY):
first he dropped
words like paper
cigarette ash
at least two inches
dangling
not like the back
of your van
with crushed cans
leather jackets
in a pile
Heineken bottle caps
broken couch
postcards
punk bitch from S.F.
in town from N.Y.C.
to do a spread
(wide open)
for High Society
laughing for awhile
as the one I spent
March with
passes out
not very hard to
get from Merciful Lee Dickens
to Chinese food and hookers
in downtown Boston
(it's your goddamned fault
Arthur
you and your fuckin' bunnies)
how many are asleep
right now
to wake at 1
and bitch about
this shit?
did i mention
i'd be afraid to
kiss that ass
and that
we're
somewhere else
now
new road trips
all the same
different beer
our pals probably
share the same
bottle at bus stations
NO WAIT THAT WAS GREGORY CORSO, ON RILKE, IN CONVERSATION WITH BURROUGHS...
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1993 15:10:16 EDT
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: <LIBALP>
Subject: Re: TO ALL THE GOITERS I'VE LOVED BEFORE
In-Reply-To: Message of Thu, 8 Jul 1993 13:51:26 -0500 from <LESSER>
On Thu, 8 Jul 1993 13:51:26 -0500 Perdurabo's Nephew said:
>TO QUOTE RILKE, ON HIS RESPONSE TO SOME CATTY REMARKS RODIN TOSSED OUTABOUT
>HIM IN SOCIAL CONVERSATION (AS TRANSLATED BY YOURS TRULY):
>
Wow! I had no idea you spoke Swedish, Scott! Wow! Sorry about the Chinese
bunnies. Feed 'em some of those "beans" they have up there, ha ha.
Speaking of pre-verbal experiences, boy howdy that Robert Holder's got a
dark side on him, ain't he? Woodoggies, I knew sumpin' was up when he
was talking 'bout "fear" and "violence" and "knives" and "valves" on
the caboose that time. I said to myself, "This here's a feller could get
decent folks in trouble, make 'em upset, give 'em doubts." On'other hand,
he acted all happy and shit. In my heart, I felt cheered by this
feller's presence, so I hypnotized him for the umpteenth time in 24 hours,and
made him fetch me another beer. When he snapped out of it, he startedtalkin'
'bout all manner of foolishness like "music" and "valves" and I-don't-know-
what-all. Seemed real nice for an evil man. Owned cats though.
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1993 13:52:00 -05
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: CATFISH EGGROLL
Swords sharpened and duly swallowed
Today's jester is chosen
>From the ranks of yesterday's
Yuppie shoe salespersons
They're gotten cheap
And made to eat the slippery okra pie
Made to dance the gunfire fandango
Slapped upside the head with a blunt object
(I think it was a dirty gym sock stuffed with catfish
But I could be wrong)
I remember Timbo when he had poe-tenshul
I remember Timbo when he'd wan DO right
I remember Timbo when he was only THIS tall
And went to church on Sunday
Who gets to clap the erasers?
Who gets the candy lipsticked peace sign hickey
That turtlenecks in summer school
Do nothing to ameliorate?
Who gets to ease this tired old Tootsie Roll
>From the planet's groaning wobble?
I'm awfully weary of this crap shoot
And wanna go to bed
With your sister
Think she'd mind?
I've got a car radio
Antenna but'd rather not
Have to use it
Cuz it hurts
Leri-l, I wuv oo
Lord Rumcrook
==========================================================
Date: Thu, 8 Jul 1993 09:42:00 -05
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: PRETTY SWIFT
LOOSELY IN MY HOGSHEAD
HIDE ALL
FLEETING GLIMPSE
WHICH LIFE REQUIRES
FINDS A WAY
- MY OWN, I FEAR -
BUT I'M NO SLEUTH
AND YOU, ha:
MIGHT I HAVE ONE
TINY BREAK?
MIGHT I HOLD
A MOMENT'S PEACE?
MIGHT YOU KISS
MY TENDER ASS
WHICH BECKONS SOFTLY
MORNING LIGHT,
AND PRETTY SWIFT
THAT DARTS FROM TREE
TO TREE?
Hank Longfellow
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 9 Jul 1993 15:46:00 EST
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: "EJ Fnord (real name! <not>)" <EJFORD>
Subject: ARTY/SCOTTO:
In-Reply-To: note of 07/09/93 15:37
As some of the younger members on this list will no doubt remember, I
haven't been here for very long, and if I had, I would certainly only admit
it if a gunwielding psychopath had just used a straight razor to cut off
my right (good) ear and was pouring gasoline on my left (evil) ear with
intent to use the gas to remove character defects too deeply embedded for
casual observance, even when I point them out.
At the risk of alienating many of the participants on this or any other
list which occupies the same address as this list, let me just say:
"...good, Am I *hip* yet...?"
signed, EJ Fnord, fearless in the face of fearlessness.
====================================================================
Date: Fri, 9 Jul 1993 03:41:23 EDT
Reply-To: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: CECIL@CECILS.BANJAXED.VOLKSWAGEN.BEETLE
Subject: CASTOR OIL SALESMAN, $13,000 p.a.; AND YOURSELF?
Dear Scott Lesser,
Here is some money. Can you slip five quid on Mother Fixation for me at the2.35 at Lancaster? Both ways. There's a good lad.
yours in anticipation,
Cecil
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