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Date: Mon, 12 Jul 1993 00:00:00 EDT
Reply-To: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: CECIL@CECILS.LAST.STAND
Subject: DECLINE AND FALL OVER
Dear Merciful Lee Dickens, Fretful and unquiet in these last few weeks ofparole, I consider the work, on whose importance I hardly need dwell, andwonder what is to become of it when I am gone. For myself, I have no hopes andno fears; the last rat has left my sinking heart and I shall depart peacefullyin the knowledge that circumstances conspired to make my task fruitless,despite the generous and unquestioning assistance of yourself and yourcomrades. My little assignment is not overly pestilent; as Flann O'Brienremarked of it in the encouraging note he enclosed with the head of a chickenthree days old which I had requested of him in my attempt not to grievouslyburden Daniel Foss, "caitheann si aimsear agus nil si chomh costasach leportar, pictuir potaiocht, cul-chainnt, ithe-feola, suibaloidche, cul-eisteachtRadio, curadoireacht, gabhail muisice, bainisteoireacht bainnce, teachtachasDala, lon-eisteacht, dochtuireacht, posadh, no pe gairm-beatha eile ata ar andomhan." It is my earnest entreaty, Mr. Rollins, that, soon, when I am gone,you should take up this bed of thorns, this little assignment, and walk.
Cecil
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Date: Tue, 13 Jul 1993 00:00:00 EDT
Reply-To: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: CECIL@CECILS.SICKBED.ORG
Subject: PLEASE REACH ME MY ONE-EYED TEDDY
Dear Mother, The physicians tell me I am suffering from a chronic curdling ofthe heart, and am not expected to last the day. Can you please arrange to havethe suit, the box of disks, and the power tie which I swiped from Daniel Fossreturned intact, as the deed rests heavily upon my conscience.
Cecil
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Date: Wed, 14 Jul 1993 03:30:21 EDT
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: <CYNOVY>
Organization: Skin on a Steaming Wand
Subject: Correction
Our organization has just received word, actually, to specify, a sequence
of a number of words not exceeding 100, that a message recently addressed
to one "William C. Anderson" but issued publically over this broadcasting
network (term appropriated from most recent edition of FNORD-L handbook
in our possession, which we freely admit is several months prior to the
present time; thus, pls notify us via standard channels as to errors which
this missive may or may not, or, alternatively, could have or could not
have, contained ASAP) allegedly originating from one who using the name
of "Cuthbert C. Cuthbert" is an utter sham, a spitshine and shoe polish
telegraph show containing ham bologna, or, as it is usually given in most
standard primary readers of the day, baloney, precisely the kind mostdespised
by Our Lady of the Silver Hair Spray in a Can, Dana "Bo Koo duh Shwah"
Dickens, a man who, witnessing himself and his faithful Indian companion
floundering in a common cess wading pool, or more likely a cess foot bath,
would opt for the salvation of himself and even take himself out to "sup"
afterwards for a job well done, in the event of such a job having the
minimal amount of success for a postdrowning consumption of edibles, or, as
it sometimes is immediately preceding causal stomach pains, "vittles". This
message should be disregarded: SoaSW has it on very good assurance that
Cuthbert long ago jumped ship from the company of the dismal lovelornsadsack
M. and, absconding with the alluring vixen employing the deceptivelydifficult
to pronounce nom de puma of "H.", made headways for the capital ofLithuania,
Vilnius, or, as it is known to many in the West of non-Finno-Urdu tongues,
"Ballyhopi". All operatives are assigned to their posts and to proceed with
the dribbling and drooling idiocies that normally occupy the day's time.
Thank you for your kind attention in this matter. Do not fold, spindle, or
mutilate. No shirt, no shoes, no service.
alp, from Washington, wearing the same clothes as Kermit T. Frog, Roving
Reporter, since I was THIS high
Wait, did I say "absconded"? I meant "tar and feathered".
=============================================================
Date: Thu, 15 Jul 1993 14:40:00 -05
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: DR. BRONNER'S
>I have long felt that a chilled dram of Dr. Bronner's in
>the morning is the perfect tonic
> Gus Tussle
*** Comments from FLASHBACK; 07/15/93 01:34pm:
I used to live in a weird boarding house in Greensboro, N.C. back in
1980. I lived there with my girlfriend at the time, my dog at the time
and my ex-girlfriend at the time (who is still my ex-girlfriend EVEN AS
WE SPEAK at this time, only now she is joined in her ex-hood by the
girl who was my girlfriend at the time - got it?).
The house was owned by a tough little cigar-chewing, crewcutted,
fatigues-wearing bull dyke who had no idea that me and my dog and my
ex-girlfriend were living with my (then) girlfriend. She wondered why
she was seeing four when there was only supposed to be one and this
ultimately led to the demise of our cohesive alternative family unit.
But I digress.
Across the hall from us lived a huge jolly rotund African-American
woman who was a gospel singer, and a damned good one, at that. Once a
week her gospel-singing friends would cram into her little apartment
and wail. I would always turn off the stereo and listen. It was
great.
Upstairs (above our tiny quarters) lived a very troubled young man who
was a transvestite. In his Male mode, his name was Craig, but when
he'd jaunt over to Female, he became Kerry. The sad thing was, he
always looked just like a dude wearing a dress.
He was very troubled because he thought he was going to get a sex
change operation (a "reassignment", they call it now) from Duke
University, but then at the last minute, staff psychologists decided he
hadn't passed the psychological portion of their show. They 86'd him
from the scheme.
He slashed his wrists, trying to commit suicide, but lived to tell
about it and ended up committing himself to the local bughouse in an
effort to get his shit together. It was there he met his soulmate,
another deeply-troubled young person - a woman of Amazonian proportions
- who taught him sign language. The two of them were in their own
little world. When he was released, the two of them got a little place
- no, wait - I take that back - he moved into her house - that's
right...
We'd invite them over for dinner occasionally. They'd come over to our
place and rudely start talking in sign language to each other, to the
exclusion of everyone else in the room. It didn't bother Boogie Dog,
but the girls and I didn't much dig it. To hell with them. We finally
quit inviting them. Last I heard, his girlfriend had started beating
him up on a regular basis, but I don't want to talk about that.
The reason I launched into this creepy weepy crawl down Memory Lane is
because of the guy who lived across the hall from HIM/HER!
Joel was a guy about 40, WAY in the middle of a midlife crisis, whose
wife had just divorced him after 12 years of marriage. She kept the
apartment and he ended up moving into parallel hell with us. He was
desperately trying to get back into the swing of things - a Connecticut
Yankee in King Bachelor's Court. He was straight out of a Woody Allen
movie - even looked a little like Woody and had many of the same kind
of mannerisms. He was deeply neurotic and aware of it. He'd joke
about it. Somewhat like George on the Seinfeld television show (for
all you Americans out there).
Joel was a very intelligent guy. He was a schoolteacher - taught 4th
grade - but he had an interesting part-time job on the side. He moon-
lighted as a salesman of bomb shelter supplies! I put the exclamation
point with that because before I met Joel I had never met a salesman of
bomb shelter supplies. To this day, he's the only one I have ever met,
so sit back down: the punctuation stands.
Joel kept some of the supplies in his apartment. For instance, he had
the largest sack of mung beans I have ever seen in my life. It was a
200-lb. bag or something ridiculous like that. He had boxes of freeze
dried meals, satchels of water purification tablets, a white belt and a
Zamfir album (I don't think that these were necessarily bomb shelter
supplies - they just happened to be in the closet with them), and then
lastly but not leastly - he had a whole crate of Dr. Bronner's All-In-
One Bouillon or whatever it's called - you know, the fortified minerals
and essential amino acids soya-based nutrient broth (which, by the way
is really quite delicious)...
Whenever someone mentions Dr. Bronner's, I can't help but think of
Joel. He would actually drink bottles a day of the stuff. I only use
it to occasionally season my food, but he was big on the tonic aspect
of it and really put that stuff away. I've seen him chug half a bottle
of it and smack his lips, "Ahhhhhh".
Good old Joel.
When I Count To Three
I Will Snap My Fingers And You
Will Awaken And Remember None Of This.
Ready?
1-2-3
Merciful Lee Dickens
You've Been A Wonderful Volunteer From The Audient!
Thank You And Good Night!
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Date: Mon, 19 Jul 1993 17:00:35 EDT
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: Strom Thurmond <LIBALP>
Organization: Senators Who Put Tang In Their Hair
Subject: MY FELLOW SENATORS:
I am unable to, and cannot and will not understand why this matter that is
before us, is before us here today. Judge Ginsburg, to the best of my
recollection that I can recall, is a dope-smoking taker of drugs and
therefore unfit for the Soopreme Court, and I thought that we had settled
this years ago, as I remember it. No dope-dealing hippie judge is gonna
sit on the Soopreme Court if I can help it, and I thought we had settled
this years ago, correct me if I'm wrong. Who knows what goes on under
that robe, and that funny hat they wear, I do believe. To sum up,
I would and do encourage all Senators not to support this justice, or any
other kind of justice, for that matter. Thank you.
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Date: Thu, 22 Jul 1993 20:47:49 SAT
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: ekhator osagie <ACDA15E@>
Organization: King Fahd University of Petroleum and Minerals, S.A.
Subject: its all that is
OUT OF THE BRIGHTNESS OF HIS PRESENCE CLOULDS ADVANCED WITH HAILSTONES AND
COALS OF FIRE
THEN YOU MUST SUCCUMB .
DECAMP IF YOU NEED TO.
CROSS THE DAMN CARPET.
AND:
TECHNICALLY RELINGUISH ALL FILTHINESS AND SUPERFLUITY OF NAUGHTINESS AND
ACCEPT WITH MEEKNESS THE ENGRAFTED WORDS WHICH EMACIPATES THE INNEST MOST
MAN( GENERIC )
WHAT SENSATION?
EMANATING WITH INEFFABLE IMMANENCY
SCINTILLATINGLY EXHILIRATING AND OVERWHELMING
ALL IN A JIFFY
WHEN YOU FEEL IT .....
ENSURE ITS NOT EPHEMERAL
NO WORDY OR PANTOMINED HISTRIONICS IS TOLERATED!
DON"T....DON"T
DON"T LOSE IT
ITS ALL THAT IS
ONLY THEN YOU IS...........
IF YOU DON"T.....
IF CAUGHT IN A WINDING LABYRINTH( WAS LOCATED IN THE MAP )
GET INVOLVED INNEST...
DON"T GET CAUGHT BY DOLDRUM MELANCHOLY..
NEVER CAN TELL WHEN IT WILL BIG BANG!
ITS STILL GRIMMERS!
YOU ARE NEXT
ON THE "IS" LINE
EKHATOR..
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Date:Thu, 22 Jul 1993 01:38:36 EDT
Sender:New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From:"Daniel A. Foss" <DFOSS@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject:orientation to FNORD-L for Aliens, undocumented workers,
foreigners, FAH (*), ...and so on.
1. Consider FNORD-L a safe sort of place where, for instance, you can Fakeaboout anything, anything at all, and nothing, nothing at all, in the way ofnegative, negativistic, even negative-oriented consequences will happen to you,your host organism, your country, your species oe phylum, your world or sprialarm, your anythingatall. The Primal Dread of, SUPPOSE IT TURNS REAL, well,that needn't worry you any more. So if you've ever... <WAAAAAAAAAH!><Shhh, it's only a Movie>, don't bother your pretty little head about itany more.
Example 1: You let on that you simply cannot ABIDE infesting this SignoureyWeaver organism one nanosecond longer <ugh!!> so you are gonna Emerge NOWknowing full well Mommy has no apparatus for Preemies around on this desolateprison-cult rock. You did that anywhere else, buster, when you DID actuallyhatch in sequel Roman Numeral i+1, where 1<=i<=n, Mommy would for realand actually give you a bath in hydrofluroic acid to remember. Nothing likethat will
Example 2: "Kuwait is the nineteenth province of Iraq!" Some people have Fakedthis thing, and terrible, unspeakable things transpired at the hands of theweak-in-deconstruction types who just couldn't let go of MEANING and otherretrograde stuff, hypersemic people doing what you'd figure when given ahyposemic text. Why, there are even today, some nations on Earth where, if youstuck your head out the window and yelled, "kUWAIT IS THE NINETEENTH PROVINCEOF IRAQ!!" there would be Trouble. There are no windows to this Computer Room,else I'd have demonstrated the applicability of the foregoing here. How aboutyour country? Suppose it's a "line-drawn-in-the-sand" type country. I realizethat to yell out the window you have to crawl over the air-conditioner,sacrifices we all have to make. So yell "kUWAIT IS THE NINETEENTH PROVINCE OFIRAQ!!" at the top of your lungs. Curious, come to think of it, that GeorgeBush, alleged onetime President of the United States, and Michel Aflak, foundrof the Ba'ath Party, curiously In Power at this time in Syria *and* Iraq (whichmay be attributed to the Uncertainty Principle but is more likely cause bysomething much less plausible) for the border of Saudi Arabia! Here, atFNORD-L, we're free to belive in un-coincidences, in out-andout CONSPIRACIES ifyou will, and NOTHING, but NOTHING, will go Real very long. So far.
Example 3: Suppose I tell you that not only am I Jewish, which you knowalready, but EVERYBODY here is Jewish, AND I wake up in a few hours and finDoutthere's another Petroleum Boycott on. THEN DO; GO TO 1; END;
Daniel A. Foss
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Date: Sun, 25 Jul 1993 15:21:14 EDT
Sender: New Ways of Thinking List <FNORD-L@UBVM.BITNET>
From: Skim the Juice <LESSER>
Organization: ZYZOVY School of Platonic Friendships
Subject: Further, on 'grimmers'
Now, whenever I pass Benny here at work, I nearly wet myself. No lie.
He looks like a victim I knew in high school, the kind who would have
spent his entire life in Shop except when it became necessary to attend
something else needed for graduation -- like Home Ec, which fulfilled a
"Social Learning" need, I seem to recall. I never liked him, just from
this dim association I have. Brought my Glad Bags to work once, but he
seems to be a bit hard of hearing as well.
Anyway, I siphoned a glass full of petrol out of his Honda Civic (hey,
man, I know it's incongruous with the other guy I knew, but it's what
he drives) and put it on his desk after sticking a piece of tape with
AMOCO written onto the outside of the gl. And the cretin drank it.
No lie. He's in the goddam hospital now and they're trying to figure out
who put the glass on his desk.
Thank the petrochemical industry for polyurethane gloves, man...
Lesser is more
"Stuttering and Slurring since it became apparent I was letting my side
of the verbal seesaw slip"
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