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========================================================================
Date: Sat, 11 Jul 1992 14:29:00 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Epouvante je te vois <H.UNIATZ>
Subject: Warning: Original Sender Death-Threats
HaHA, cheating@sbccvm, self can type! All of 402 words stampeded between
23.23.23 GMT and 23.24.25 GMT on Thursday last: I'm quite impossibly
impressed with m'self. Listen, look, see, remember, you are not H760,
and it's a touch unchivalrous to wave yr armoury so glintingly when yr
eeenemy is still reloading her valve-worn water-pistol. Urk, darling,
I'll reform you tractable yet: hands out of yr pockets, quit slouching,
and confine yr Comments to yr parentage. Intolerable company the smile
may make, but it might be suased into use in lieu of apron if you should
ever find yrself pi(e)ously consuming amid banquets of Daniel's
fork-shunning buddies or dolefully disposing of the rhubarb pie into
which GR4302 in his literary toil has neglected to place a file when
you are being cheating@brixton.jail for yr terrible indiscrimes.
<Dear H760, in response to yr inquiry, it solves everything to speak to
yrself in belligerent stultiloquy: it's no fault of yrs if he is randomly
loveable, the EEEnemy in the third (3rd) person is the EEEnemy
improp(er)inquitous, and, what's more, unable to wield his "I wasn't
talking to you" stunt, which, with yr petty capacity to bear grudges, you
do not wish to forget until that's ... over. The smallest such alterations
bring freedom from tyrannies: since yr watch stopped a few weeks ago, you
no longer find yrself checking time-minus-five(6) to see where he's
currently driving the company to cliff-top suicide notification.>
I cannot recall you ever kindly asking me anything, "asking" here as
opposed to menacing or hectoring (blunder, m'dear, blunder: I always
have done and always shall do anything you _ask_, you just need to be
more fastidious in yr phrasing): you might pinpoint for my creeping
comprehension the message in which you %think% you hinterlocuted me to
refrain from displaying the victimage _you_gave_yrself_, which is none
of my business, even if in the odd presumptive fit I should claim
otherwise: all I have ever displayed is the badge you gave me stating
"Kept Nuisance: Property of M": I water it every day and soak it in
plant-food and iron it when it gets crumpled and have added an
"orsoshesaid" as safety-clause.
H760 no longer has a bike: kept colliding with things: no concentration:
I'm owed a Corvette tale: yr idiosyncrashes: metaphorical or not? By
applying yr pielosophy, I've been forced to conclude, in capitals, that
YOU ARE TO BE (MIS)UNDERSTOOD AS A METAPHOR (meta for me engagingly and
I may even fictize you from yr dungeon); now, this is a fundamagental
chocolate bisquiry WHICH WANTS AN ANSWER ANSWER ANSWER: of what?
.H
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 13 Jul 1992 09:02:13 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Juniper Sage <CHEATING@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Subject: * PF03 UNDEFINED
...and what a charming Kept Nuisance she is, too. If I may be so bold
as to intervene, which is not an act of much boldness at all, might
I attempt an explanation? M, at last count, does not actually own
a 1962 Corvette, and presumably attempts to inherent one from the
perennially dying Daniel A. Foss. As for the extent of the damage
of the "accident", there was very little: M was not in a car, but was
struck by one which was driven by an individual who did not believe,
apparently, that someone would be such an idiot as to walk directly
before a moving automobile, whether right-of-way pertained or not.
M is always surprising people that way.
M was not injured, and, upon rising and striking the dirtied clothing,
M was heard to say something to the effect of how only one person could
be so low as to attempt an assassination on Such A Nice Day, and that
obviously even the Atlantic Ocean was not enough of a barrier. However,
we know better, don't we, H? And, by virtue of the fact that you
disallow the possibility that M is a distinct creature from a Juniper
Sage, all due to the permissiveness of the mail header, might I issue
a request with care for fastidiousness upon which you shall quickly
make good your promise to do whatever "I" ask? Please come and tend,
one way or another, to M's wounds, an escape route from this dungeon.
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 13 Jul 1992 12:47:00 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: AP <LIBALP>
Subject: god'll get you
How fitting. He thought Dr. Amos Haggard was dead. He thought Foss wasdead.
He killed Cuthbert. He was obsessed by death. And now he's dead.
Bill is dead, killed and eaten by cockroaches and centipedes because he
didn't wash his damn dirty clothes.
Did I mention that he's famous in Holland? Or is it Denmark?
Arthur
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 13 Jul 1992 17:42:37 -0400
Reply-To: History <HISTORY@RUTVM1>
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Comments: Warning -- original Sender: tag was HISTORY@RUTVM1
From: VoxelView <voxel@ >
*************************************************************************
* *
* SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!!!!!! *
* *
*************************************************************************
Nobody can read as fast as he can type, yet he types for all of us, for the
humble masses huddled in the shadow of network greatness.
ANNOUNCING A NEW LIST: FOSS-L@SUNYSB.BITNET
This list is dedicated to primary source Dan Foss materials, to criticisms
of Foss and his work, and to meta-Foss postings and decoders for these
postings.
We promise that Foss will deliver at least 678 lines of original text daily,
that people will flame creatively and uncreatively, and that all obscure and
obvious references will be footnoted with accurate citations,clarifications,
and elucidations. We promise that you will receive erudition faster thanyou
can possibly peruse.
It's free to join. Get your enlightenment today. Entertaining too.
Also, high calcium (cockroaches)! Good for PMS if you dip them inchocolate!
Subscribe by sending a message to LISTSERV@SUNYSB.BITNET with the command
SUBSCRIBE FOSS-L [name1] [name2].
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 13 Jul 1992 23:25:27 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Comments: Warning -- original Sender: tag was H.UNIATZ
From: Of Enemies and Endives <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Re: et encore une fois
In-Reply-To: <TEST%92070207093302@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
That same night, as opposed to that self-same knight, Ward dreamt
furtively, and dreamt of the camisoled one, picturing her where the
Roinn Oideachais had been, lightly flipping through the pages of
the wide-ranging collection of magazines published by Conde Nast
which Ward kept ostensibly in his upper right hand desk drawer,
though, in fact, the magazines found their way into all of the nooks
and all of the crannies which Ward ostensibly meant to have kept
magazine-free, a problem for which the discerning and disapproving
eyes of this month's Jewish Mother reproached Ward from the vantage
of the calendar which, though hung out of reach, nonetheless was
always kept up-to-date, a convention of the castle which Ward had
never bothered to question. The cloistered one seemed to gaze
rapturously upon the fashion models in their chiffon blue jumpsuits
and ill-fitting lingerie, and Ward strained to hear the murmurs
which tripped from her lips; however, no matter how much he bent
forward, cocking his ear like the loaded clip of the post office
tower which he'd taken from our hero, he was unable to identify
the sounds as words or phrases or anything but sounds unidentifiable
and unrecognizable.
Ward then made a mistake which was the particular trademark of all
of his dreams involving the clementine one, and which had given him
the theme by which to group them in the journal which he kept
religiously detailing his dreams, and which, even during a lucid
incidence, he was unable to avoid, which had led him to the by and
largely correct conclusion that he had an intemperate personality:
He became impatient. He even raised his voice towards her, which
was accompanied by the undeniable yet inevitable -- see the above
comments -- aspect of the dream: the camoflaged one disappeared,
a mere flutter of her eyes the only acknowledged response to Ward's
inopportune behavior. Ward slapped the table with his palm, flat,
which caused a tidal wave of coffee to make its appearance on the
table, next to Ward's hand, and onto one of the issues of _Traveler_
which Ward had neglected to put away before settling down to the
affairs of catching up to the cheoplastic one, with full intention
to at least obtain better photographs of her so as to make the
cardboard cut-out that much more life-like, though it had been life-
like enough already to cause the Roinn Oideachais much consternation
when, seating self, self had failed to notice her until the last
moment, thanks in part to the frantic gesticulation evidenced by
Ward, and then had attempted to apologize to her, which had amused
Ward though Ward had not realized that this was purely for his own
benefit as Roinn had most certainly not made up his mind as to
the character of Ward and had decided to humor him whenever possible.
This action, which Ward had perhaps registered under his hat as
being slightly exaggerated, perhaps even less than sincere, was the
rationalization provided by Ward when explicating the dream into his
journal as to why the seat taken up by the clandestine one had become
occupied instead by the Roinn Oideachais, who stated, in a very loud
voice which was well-known throughout the land as belonging
unmistakenly to the Roinn Oideachais, and, along with the panting
and wheezing of Roinn's horse, who, in spite of recommendation from
the doctor provided kindly by the castle, continued to be a two(2)-
pack-a-day smoker of Knightly Nimiety (tm) brand cigarettes, which
were, after all, also provided kindly by the castle, were considered
omens by the local peasants that they were soon to fall victim to
a Good Deed or two, that self very much wished to travel through the
Bavarian pinnacles so as to show off the new mesh which self was
intending, following the recipe which self was clipping without Ward's
permission, to sew for one's self, though, suddenly, the Roinn
Oideachais looked very, very disappointed with self's self and very,
very sad and tired, and wished outloud that self had been allowed to
become a boy scout, as self would at present know how to sew. Ward
awoke with a start, wondering as he glanced over at the Roinn
Oideachais who seemed to be awaiting a response, if he would ever
finally meet the chloroformed one.
========================================================================
GOOKCITY (Part One: "GookCity") by GR4302
(This is actually the 2nd anniversary revised version, retitled _CityCity_.
All discussion on sbrhym-l will refer to this work by its original, pre-sellout name, _GookCity_.)
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 14 Jul 1992 11:08:00 -05
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: SUNNY JOHN BORN WITHOUT SHOES
Hi.
Would it be rude if I asked the author of Gookcity to send me the
location of just the dirty parts of his post, which I'm sure is a fine
opus, but it's just that I don't have a lot of TIME, you see, and a
dwindling woody complicating things is what prompts me to inquire.
Happy Bastille Day and good luck with the pederasty cases!
Gushingly,
Merciful Lee Dickens
Saggitarius
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 14 Jul 1992 15:59:00 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Epouvante je t'amortise <H.UNIATZ>
Subject: Highway Codeine For His Sed*tion
Reporting for duty, Sir, to gladly fall right aheadlong into
the proposed ambush, pledge to tend to the wounds of an M who
has so recently been reported unwounded, and, upon seeking him
out to practise false medicine, find that an "impending trip"
(cautiously, wotzat?) has impounded him, then, before dissolving
into lachrymosity, reflect to self that it is perhaps a best
i_t_r_s_, as a hero without a '62 Corvette is not the most
appropriate of figures to raise to a pedestal, and the assumption
throughout (esp. underpinning the marriage contract) that it
was not a common-as-grass 1962 Corvette, but an 1862 one, altogether
a rarer specimen and sure to fetch the price of a cup of tea on the
open market, has bit the dust.
----------------HARANGUE: ON NOT CROSSING STREETS----------------
If I may presume to advise M, he may find, as I do, that by intently
observing the countenance of the oncoming driver, it is possible to
determine within the accepted error-margins the probability that
he/she will brake the vehicle to a halt at a time such as will
assist the prevention of M becoming an adornment of the undercarriage.
If the eyes exhibit within them the light of religious fervour, M is
to abandon all thought of thoroughfare transversal and return forthwith
to his home, where self, summonsed and bearing stethoscope, will read
to him the more stirring passages from the back of the milk carton.
Otherwise, a sallying forth is advised, accompanied by a commanding
wave of the umbrella, which should be of the golf, as opposed to the
collapsible, variety. Pausing midway to memoralise the bumper-stickers
is not forbidden, and a double-take is always appreciated by the
discerning motorist, or, failing that, the production of the manner
of sound which would have accompanied a double-take if one had been
attempted. I am counting on M to die a far far more glorious death
than a road-runner/coyote flattening, so watch it.
------------------------------END-------------------------------------
As to the matter of the relation, if any, between M and JS, the
distinction is acknowledged, if you want it to be. However, it
cannot be guaranteed that this reader will not at times be markedly
atrabilious at the somewhat trying task of correctly attributing to
each his own conceits and ensuring avoidance of the addressing of one
with the circumambience of apprehension reserved for the other.
H.
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 14 Jul 1992 12:25:44 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: sorry Dana
sorry, not much filth in this e-book....at least not yet. part two "Some
Kind of Record" has a little bit...you'll have to wait. Hey if anyone
doesn't want to read my e-book, then please send it back to the void of
nothingness from which it came. The rules are simple: GookCity is
never (never!) to see paper. So, please do not print it out. If you
must circulate it for some foolass reason, please keep it electronic.
thanks. the author.
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 14 Jul 1992 18:18:18 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Comments: Warning -- original Sender: tag was H.UNIATZ
From: "Dktr. Purngvat - urk" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: "Impending Trip the Light Fantastic"
In-Reply-To: <9207132337.AA18811@ccvm.sunysb.edu>
Impending trim of my secretly serviced branches it is, m'dear, and
Thank You O So Kindly for your unvaunted and unwarranted concern:
Juniper sags with the burden of pie-shares statistical charts and
cannot be found wanting but for the Truth: I'm ... okay, enough,
shouldn't be cause for conjugal alarmist intervention, sed*tion or
no. You've not the 33% grade incline demanded by the more demented
of loading dock workers to arrive, stethoscones and biscuits borne
alofty daydreaming of whether Zielke will be ... okay unattended and
whether yr Knightengale force winds down better in yr own lands or
at the very least you'd be more appreciated (you wouldn't, I've
pedestolen a sumptive glance with which to enframe yr mind to join
me (nodal, encore) @Brixton.jail (Armagh would be so much more
apropos) -- and what sumptive curvettes you doth possess! Alas, all
is unawaranted, so stay put: "Impending doom" = "My undying" - best
_n_e_e_t, and so neat is your eyes I'm alimentering posting an Erato
sheet for print double-takes much more appropriate to yr figure.
I tried to make use of the badvice you took care to enclose for me,
and nearly sustained a head injury tantamount to give pause and
quickly turn looking to catch the spy who might have been hoping to
report back: M shall die an utterly insignificant death, sans even
a cyrillic inscription given over to halved-invenes of yo(u)re,
indeed has already, if all this is but an rescindication. Could I,
would I, step forth into Kennaway's domain, not quite as inexistent
as purloined. Now, that would crinkle the legal records,
overtaking as it were to install a fallaway piece of Error Crusade
into the "ex deus machinations" so belabored in false starts and
hesitations. Of corrosive, your [sic] welcome to take refuge in
refuse-to-acknowledge tactics, a well-hid respatistician in
discomfitures...
What is the likelihood, upon rolling a die seven-hundred-and-sixty
(760) times, that one, adding the pips, would accrue to oneself a
number of 761? Don't bother answering just yet, I'm engrossed by
Gookcity, discovering that I belong to the Player's Club there as
well.
love, M (and, after all, what could be finer? or so she said.)
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 14 Jul 1992 13:25:00 -05
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: Reply to Re: sorry Dana
>Date: Tue, 14 Jul 1992 14:06:03 EDT
>Reply-To: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@CCVM.sunysb.edu>
>Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@CCVM.sunysb.edu>
>From: hag@CELIO.UVM.EDU
>Subject: Re: sorry Dana
>X-To: SBRHYM-L%SBCCVM.bitnet@UVMVM.UVM.EDU
>To: Multiple recipients of list SBRHYM-L<SBRHYM-L@CCVM.sunysb.edu>
>
Pardon my ignorance, and please do not consider this in any way a judgment
or castigation, but having read very little "new literature" that is,
written in the last 25 years and considered on the cutting edge of
literature, I am simply curious. Is this style of quick MTV-like cutting,
kaleidoscope vignettes, plot or plotless cul-de-sacs, and self-conscious
interruptions of story the latest style in literature. It seems to be quite
prevalent. Or is it to be found only in certain groups.
I repeat that this is not a judgment or criticism of the work in question.
I'd like to know in case I decide to start writing again.
- HAG, given the terseness of the message, not to be confused, obviously,
with H
*** Comments from ROLLIDE - Rollins, Dana; 07/14/92 01:25pm:
yes and no.
Sorry Dana
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 14 Jul 1992 16:45:09 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBWCA
Subject: Re: MY SUMMER VACATION
In-Reply-To: Message of Tue,
14 Jul 1992 15:40:00 -05 from <DICKENS>
On Tue, 14 Jul 1992 15:40:00 -05 Merciful Lee Dickens said:
>I'm going to write a book, too.
>And there's going to be a drunk guy named Mr. Weaver in it.
>And the teenaged son of hippies who name him God at birth
>but later start calling him Goddy.
>And I will make money and be famous like Daniel Foss
>And have lots of dogs and cats.
>Raise up a bunch of bastards who will call me Pa.
>Save up and buy two cars: one for the paper route,
>One just for fishing and stuff.
>You'll see.
>So you'd better start being nice to me.
>
>Merciful Lee Dickens,
>Mystic Allouishus
Where have I heard that before?
Oops. I'm dead; better shut up.
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 15 Jul 1992 16:30:00 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Archdktr Strangler <H.UNIATZ>
Subject: Spycious You'll Be
I could always have another try, start a fight the first time or
don't bother: "impending", darling, "trip", darling, "?", darling,
but no, otherwiser to walk slow in a land of splices and
incomprehensibility for summer o commemorate him where I am: M can
die no death: sometime last spring I cajoled the listserv to SET
CHEATING IMMORTAL, and a sorry failure it's dismayed of things thus
far, you'll rightly rhetort. Deus ex machetenations lain to rest
while you peruse GOOKCITY, roll the die if not the rill as many times
as need be coventured to stake you Kept, Kept, Kept, while I toy with
the thought of how M might be flattened and doubledealt into doing a
louse-divided-against-itself (sorry) turning out of the rattlingest
skeletons in JS's stair-cupboard; what would you, knowing M's
(gul)liabilities as you do, deem the best way to lure him to the ring
of spies, and, in particular, the vacancy @wherever?
Zielke has to sightseek without my tour-guide spielegance as I'm
elsewhere engagged and bound to inter alia every killfilament of
yr enthorned enthroned being, with jack-in-the-box Something
constituting the head injury I failed to avoid in rescindication
to resyndicate you holy. And, while you're there, the photo that was
once my worst interest, it won't do, even to yr smile (so, so ... so);
it looks too damn like ... but you don't really wish to hear any of
this do you.
H.
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 15 Jul 1992 10:37:14 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Tim Bryant <C09615TI@ >
Subject: Rename this list
to the SUNY Stony Brook Public Masturbatory Illectualization List.
Okay?
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 15 Jul 1992 13:47:34 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: to T. Bryant (to make much of iron pokers)
Flip you, flip you, a million times in all the most digusting orifices.
Everyone knows this is the Underground Mutoid Zombie List. If you think
this masturbatory, then you must be a masturbator yourself. Personally
I'm sure you must }isu~r~rck turkey shit }i
throug}ih a straw for dinner and ~r
delkight, n'est pas?
----
Dana: In modern lit you can do anything you want. Jumping round, being
an ass, it's alright. Becket took us to the depths of doo-doo and hence
the only "cutting-edge" anymore is indeed this list. How things are on
this list IS how the world of lit stands (or squats) at the moment.
To all the unbelievers and passive observers: see the opening remarks
to T. B. \
u all are turds, cheap at that
;^##
or was that Beckett with two t's or...no it was Nabokov's fault...gol I hate
that fucker
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 15 Jul 1992 14:19:00 -05
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: Reply to to T. Bryant (to mak
>From: GR4302
>Subject: to T. Bryant (to make much of iron pokers)
>To: Multiple recipients of list SBRHYM-L<SBRHYM-L@CCVM.sunysb.edu>
>
Flip you, flip you, a million times in all the most digusting orifices.
Everyone knows this is the Underground Mutoid Zombie List. If you think
this masturbatory, then you must be a masturbator yourself. Personally
I'm sure you must }isu r rck turkey shit }i
throug}ih a straw for dinner and r
delkight, n'est pas?
----
Dana: In modern lit you can do anything you want. Jumping round, being
an ass, it's alright. Becket took us to the depths of doo-doo and hence
the only "cutting-edge" anymore is indeed this list. How things are on
this list IS how the world of lit stands (or squats) at the moment.
To all the unbelievers and passive observers: see the opening remarks
to T. B. \
u all are turds, cheap at that
;^##
or was that Beckett with two t's or...no it was Nabokov's fault...gol I hate
that fucker
*** Comments from ROLLIDE - Rollins, Dana; 07/15/92 02:12pm:
Damn, Buddy!
You EAT out of that mouth?
I try to say that at least once a day - more when opportunity arises -
Yeah, don't worry about that flasher.
He'll be sorry.
Wait'll he hears how much fun we're having,
whitewashing your fence!
He'll be back
Humble as pie.
You wait and see.
Incidentally, I'm one of the greatest writers alive today. And some-
thing of an oddity I daresay, in that I've never really published
anything.
Just think: you're getting all this for free.
A bargain at twice the price!
Just A Lad,
Merciful Lee Dickens
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 15 Jul 1992 23:26:29 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "Dktr. Subtilis (ego vamp -" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Hold
Our hero learned rapidly the benefits of having a boy scout, despite
the whistling, as a cellmate, particularly as this boy scout had received
his badge in "Building Post Office Towers from Scratch", though our
hero realized that he really didn't, after all, have the slightest
idea what one was for.
The Roinn Oideachais regretted having let self's stead go; self's stead,
despite the yellowed grin from tobacco stains, was much better company
than Ward.
A.M. Ward decided that it would be best to invent some notion of an
"impending trip" to be able to return, unaccompanied by Roinn, to the
laboratory wherein rested both his collection of daggers and a fresh
change of clothes.
The vicar surprised to be alive, found himself in a small cottage in
the outskirts of the village where decisions would have to be made.
The detective practiced disguising himself as a girl scout for the
inevitable final battle while wandering around in the laundry room
picking up spare change and the occasional bottle cap to give to Chick,
who collected them.
And, right about this point, the Vampyre, complete with entourage,
thinks about making an entrance into the tale, but, at the last minute,
is talked out of it by a flunkey stooge who is then killed by a most
unfortunate spill of white-out.
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 16 Jul 1992 15:40:00 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "Wing-Commander Strangler + VAT" <H.UNIATZ>
Subject: Re: Hold
Our hero, disguised as a vicar and surprised to be alive, found
himself in a small cottage in the outskirts of the village where
decisions would have to be made. He'd been terribly clever, he
thought, in building a Post Office Tower and escaping from the
castle dungeons by blasting his way through the net curtain which
had lingered so tantalisingly between himself and his freedom. The
boy, reluctant to leave the rockery of bat-carcasses he'd built
around the bust of Byron, had elected to stay a further while,
and our hero, who was celloloidically indoctrinated into preferring
to think of himself as the strong silent solitary type, had not
argued. He found the vicar's garb enabled him to move more freely
among the village people, though, at times, he found himself
unaccountably pausing to straighten crooked pictures, paving stones,
sunflowers and ties.
Never very incisively decisive, he was plagued by thoughts of whether
or not he should ask the advice of his father, the bishop, on the matter
of his impendency to trip, whether or not to take offence, and, his
greatest worry, how best to manipulate the case he'd brought against
parties formerly participant in his marriages for bloodrot. These
anxieties occupied his mind on and off until, as the milk-jug struck
midnight, he straightened from his task of checking the incline of the
kitchen floor to see if it needed to be taken into account in aligning
the dusty but still recognisably pornographic calendar, relic of a
previous inhabitant, over the stove. Having failed for the past hour to
convert millimetres to BST, he seemed tetchy and worried. As he turned,
his attention entangled itself in a white fluttering figure outside the
window. Focussing his judgement, he went to loosen it, and observed
that a Wicked Vampyre hovered without the walls.
The Vampyre smiled pleasantly enough, and was admitted, explaining
that it was really sorry to be a bother at such a late hour, but only
wanted to borrow a calculator. From its pagoda in the chimney, it had
immediately recognised our hero as the manner of man who would probably
carry his entire wardrobe, bureau, and tipper truck in his briefcase,
and was perfectly prepared to settle for a slide-rule if he had turned
out to be old-fashioned in his tastes. The Vampyre's usual habit was
to gain entrance into village houses by assuming the shape of a Vedic
Vacumn Salesperson and then set about amassing a few souls for Chick,
who collected them. Pocketing the proffered abacus and accepting our
hero's offer of some illegally distilled water, it sat on the sofa and
sized up his soul.
Our hero, though slow on the uptake at times, could not have failed
to have heard of Ward's lengthy quest, and, while entertaining his guest
with the details of the FBI cleaning-roster, he slowly realised that
it was the conchologisticsal one, missing for so many years, who sat
before him. In truth, he could not think what to say or do next, and
the conversation soon chasmed.
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 16 Jul 1992 12:27:09 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBWCA
Subject: Re: Rename this list
In-Reply-To: Message of Wed, 15 Jul 1992 10:37:14 CST from <C09615TI@>
On Wed, 15 Jul 1992 10:37:14 CST Tim Bryant said:
>to the SUNY Stony Brook Public Masturbatory Illectualization List.
>Okay?
> Rename this list
>
OK. Sounds good to me. I'm up for it. Care to tell us exactly
what the fuck "Illectualization" is? Hmm? May if you masturbated in
public more often, you'd have a surer and more facile command of the
English language. Butthead.
Oops; I keep forgetting...
Dead Bill
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 16 Jul 1992 13:37:49 CDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Zoroaster in t-bills <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: And sprycious she is, so deerie to my [rutabegged, borrowed,and disbelieved]Date: Thu, 16 Jul 92 18:18:18 GMT
Comments: Warning -- original Sender: tag was H760@ccvm.sunysb.edu
Newsgroups: bit.listserv.test
In-Reply-To: <TEST%92071511405770@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
Organization: Mollusk Infrastructure
Cc:
Bcc:
Parsparilla for the spliced thirsts which one-fell-swoop down the
ails served up for the Plebian Accusatory bLister which DEMANDS to
be fed as well: no jest for the picketed, at least, having to-the-
dogs gone and even then reslapped into woebetides ("but it wasn't
where it wasn't at") and It Could Be Just Like Last One(1) Hot
Summer: i m p e n d i n g <space> t r i p [darling]. All of that
is cancelled as you privy to be are later (oops): your immortattlety
incan'tations have visited damnably upon my cranial damage more than
I could count, even in parentheses. Rhetorts are best served warm,
and I find the fruit filling is the bestest-parlo(u)r-teariffed-
with-interest (stop gaps, admitted). If only you'd not infer what
yr Kept Kept Kept Wived does and does not wish to hear ("They were
the Young Armenians (all....night)"), peut-etreble M might not be
so, so ... so-so in the attempts of dismayed-bedding towards the
Spy-in-the-Louse-of-[jellyfish] (don't let them bite!).
A vacancy? This would bear further explanation, if it was hoped
such would be forthcoming; traged to imperfection, I'm there if
you'd point the way, and if not for (O How you had hoped it would
not yet again arrive at this doorstep, wiping its feet on the
green plastic Welcome mat set out for such a purpose, but, alas,
sadly, the door gets opened anyway) Something having Come a little
ways Up (a different Something! a different way Come! a different
ascendency Up!). More to try and wholly redeem me in a litigious
syndicative trying to follow. Damosthenes calls.
HAG: nice new node, the celio overhangs nicely: may I ask what,
in a non-castigative way, do you consider "new literature"? You
have heard of the 19th century, I might presume? You have heard
of epistolary, no? The lackluster Laclos, going back another
century? 25 years falling phenom-like as insufficient bracket:
a meditative wrestling Greco-Roman4302 style (ask the lad about
Cicero) upon the embattled positions of the day: a Sartor Resartus
e-done, revoking the pristine propriety of paper. I don't
register MTV kaleidoscope cul-de-sacs in just the most recent:
more to the point, as you've already begun writing again (texts
posted as proof, if you need a reminding): are you writing to
fit in? to meet the fad? to make a tidy sum and move on? The
psychological thrash is still more likely to help you find yr
way to the NYT Book Review, if that's a desirable cottage: just
remember to put it on paper too.
Dana: Looking forward to the book. Don't forget to give it a
nice sweeping epic feel, and include some polite conversation,
always a hit.
I'm so glad to be an insistance.
M. (Darling ... and then what happened?)
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 16 Jul 1992 16:32:00 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: AP <LIBALP>
Subject: Now this here
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Love's Tumpers congregate/
like pigeons around my back porch/
She was the purtiest pigeon I ever did see/
But Her Love tumped over my heart/
(chorus)
Oh, Her Love tumped over my heart/
Her Love tumped over my heart/
They must tump night and day down in old Alabam'/
Tumpin' like a racehorse in Bir-ming-ham.
(spoken): Daddy never told me about the hurt from when a woman tumps your
heart. He told me a lot about screwin' trees though.
The monkey grass around my porch/
Hain't been the same since she came around/
And tumped my heart over the railin'/
Oh Lord it hurts me like that.
(repeat chorus)
Thank you. The name of that one is called Love's Tumping Female. Thanky'all
a lot.
========================================================================
Date: Thu, 16 Jul 1992 16:57:00 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Arthur Parker <LIBALP>
Subject: Coming next
"Nat Hawthorne Was A Book-Writin' Man"
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 17 Jul 1992 00:12:44 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: Senor Brasiliano
It is you, Monsieur, who needs help. Not I.
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 17 Jul 1992 01:40:07 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBWCA
Subject: A SAD NOTE
'Lizabeth didn't hardly know what hit her, watchin' that man up there
behind the chicken wire sing his sad songs. Oh, they was real, real
sad- the kinda songs that make you wanna crawl up inside the bottle
stay sad till Jesus comes back. 'Lizabeth was gettin' the kinda feelings
she hadn't oughta get, and she knew Sonny could tell, the wat her dress
was riding up her hips ever' time he hit the high, lonesome notes. She
knew Sonny didn't like it, but she never thought he'd do what he did
with that hog jowl when the man come out to git another PBR. If he'd
only sent his harmonica player out instead, or just called for Pansy
to bring him the tall-boy- but he was feeling high ornery, and there's
no telling what a man will do when he's feeling high ornery. He never
saw Sonny standing there behind the marshall stack, and tonight,
Nashville mourns one of it's own. If only they hadn't let him bring
that goddamn dobro with him...
========================================================================
Date: Fri, 17 Jul 1992 11:49:58 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Tim Bryant <C09615TI@ >
I would like to apologize for my lack of spelling and good taste a few
days ago. Although not a crime on the net, it seems I just lost my
head. Has anyone seen it? It looks sort of like... well, u no
Tim
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