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Activist Times Inc. Issue 134
Crossing our I's and dotting our T's it's A.T.I.
"Hi, I'm Jim Palmer, a multi-millionaire sports
has-been. Yet I'm feeling incredibly needy these
days. So I'm commissioned by The Money Store for
yet another year. Don't I make a lovely metaphor
for the USA here in 1998???
AAAAAACTIVISTAAAAA issue June
TTTTTTTIMESTTTTTTT # 27
IIIINDUSTRIESIIIII 134 1998
Well, this issue was an easy one to put out. Lots
of participation. We like that.
Numbers run should be fun, as well should the poems.
Enjoy. Have an ice week.
XPrimeAnarchisTX
Prime Expounds Further, (Lilith and Glastonbury):
I'm in one of those "wow," moods.
I have to put a book down every line or two.
I have to stop to say "wow."
Each word effects me twice as muchly.
Prob 'cause I've been watchin' 2 much TV.
Not enough books.
I need to watch more books lately.
It works the other way around too, you know.
Go a whole month on no television; you'll see...
When they say you need a car, you REALLY NEED a car.
It's like with too much hallucinogen.
Something orange is more orange than it ever was before.
The purples are "purpler" than purple itself.
Wow.
I think I'll go weed the garden for a few hours.
I like Janet Buck's poems and want to see more.
Tell her, please.
MICHAEL GELFAND
Y2K Compliant Since MCMLV
(ed. note: read on, we listened 2 U 4 sure.)
/____________ Prime Anarchist
\ Is Not An Actor
Dear ATI:
Stop including appeals for money. It cheapens you and could
set you up for pure and innocent duplicity. Maybe its the
cynic in me but I don't trust anyone that asks for cash
over the net. Wasn't it Oral Roberts who said, and I paraphrase,
"You must give me 40 gazillion dollars by the end of the month or
God will take me." Knock yourself Oral, and anyone else
who uses this political forum to gather cashola. I'll pass....
-- The Kid from Beantown
(ed. note: sorry. We should'be been more clear with that letter
last week. ATI stood to gain no money from it whatsoever. Aron
K.; the yippie pie in the eye guy; was asking for donations and/or
loans to get to this year's national Rainbow Family of Living Light
gathering in Arizona, which is going on as we speak. TAP/YIPL helped
out Cap 'N Crunch, Abbie Hoffman, Cheshire Catalyst and others when
they were in need, we figured "who better'n ATI to carry on the
tradition?" Thanks, Kid from Beantown, for calling us on that.)
Editor in Chief, eh? That scared me at first, I wasn't sure who that
was! Anyway, glad to see you liked some of my humor...! Have a good
Thursday!
Cheryl
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we are ATI
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Courage Earwigs
by Janet Buck
(It was requested she "perform" an encore.)
Courage is a nasty earwig.
I have yet to train its pinchers.
Sweating crippled is a glass
like water dripping off a dolphin.
The big, bad bulge of fortitude
and passion steered toward fitting in.
Underneath is black and blue
and blistered by the wisdom cords.
The art fart is a panacea.
Syllables are iodine.
Clean the wounds; prevent infection.
Yet, they wouldn't much exist
if you had folded listen blankets,
coldly stuffed them in the closet,
made me walk alone in pain.
Puppies on a leash refraining
from immersing in the waves.
Shadows of "disabled" stink.
They're rotted fish on beaten shores.
Just like milk and veins in shrimp.
Their stench, an omnipresent threat.
Wheelchairs are albatrosses.
I am rolling on my own.
Squirting stoic on my leg
like foamy creme of blessing clouds.
Motion is the Id demanded.
Shaving slowly what remains.
My Favorite Demons
by Janet I. Buck
Crippled is a bed of hay.
You make a choice.
Rot away in monsters trained
by hives of very normal eyes.
Wear the glove of agony
like polish on your fingernails.
Or build yourself a courage nest
of swimming hard against its current.
Some of us will live disabled.
Others dance around the curse.
There was never breathing space
in hopping up a flight of stairs.
My favorite demons, well,
were these: my brothers' bikes,
my sister's teddies sprouting thighs.
Barbie Dolls and roller skates.
Phones that didn't ring enough when
evenings for a dance approached.
Pairs of skis all bundled up
and put in place like
candy canes on Christmas trees.
These were gourmet jelly beans.
I couldn't stop to lick and look.
Art is acorns growing something.
Damn, I wish it had a name.
Inspiration's cookie jar has
been my bones they flat removed
like crusts of bread for dinner guests.
If you wonder why I write,
you are deaf to reason trains.
And syllables you see above
are useless vitriolic splatter
from a wasted inner-quest.
Dirty Shirts
by Janet I. Buck
We had planned this trip for months.
A getaway that dripped romance.
The fairy tale of traveling had
prickled thorns of miles to walk,
but there would be such juice within
like watermelons wishful tapped.
Pop the top on credit cards.
Stroll the paths of shopping malls.
Museums with their marble stairways.
Freezer packs. Adventure calling.
Seemed to be a promise chill
in coolers of our innocence.
The city was a maze of tubes.
Catheters to nowhere really.
Expectation's chocolate chips
were melting in the gray regret.
The lobby of the city's bowels
drew us both like passing flies.
There was nothing there for us.
Buildings just cemented down
as posts attached to rotted teeth.
Summer had its weeds at home.
Trees that sagged, their curls brushed.
Mowing lawns and other chores
would taste a little sweeter now.
Motion here had Arctic breezes.
I would pine for mounds of dirt.
Christmas stockings of the country.
Matted hair in place of bald.
Naiveté gives nasty bites
and I would beg the plane to leave.
Home was peppermint awaiting.
Urban stinks like dirty shirts.
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we are ATI
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Just Another Albatross
by Janet I. Buck
Around the neck of summer days,
baby strollers rolling by.
Very jealous hoolahoops
were sliding down my bitter hips.
A poster nailed to the pole
said:
"Yard Sale
Baby/Children
Everything Must Go!
1930 Arbor Lane"
I knew it had to be a joke.
An oversight like modifiers
in an accidental slot
of stanza cartons for an egg.
No one throws such
golden blessings to the wolves.
I turned the corner anyway
and pushed the pedal to the floor.
Just in case absurdity would
be another tank of gas.
Got to thinking, sadly, judging.
This is what adoption does.
Those baby booties on the dash
of windows in department stores.
They wouldn't sting so badly
(would they?) had I had ten lively toes
of wiggle, giggle in my arms.
If more had known the cave of sterile,
they'd have held their bundled joy
in postures cupping gratitude.
I would. I know. I hope.
God forgive me if I didn't.
Romancing stones of hollow wombs
becomes the art of wisdom cords.
To: ATI@etext.org
"Because e-mail can be altered electronically,
the integrity of this communication cannot be guaranteed."
From: hardball <hardball@cnbc.com>
########### P A P
# numbers # / / /
# 10:45pm # Prime Anarchist Productions numbers run
########### 4 issue 134. 4 U. 4 ever.
http://www.frontpagemag.com
http://www.killyourtv.com
http://members.aol.com/mrngsunris
http://members.aol.com/apoetspen
http://members.tripod.com/~poetgirl
http://www.thepentagon.com/primeanarchist
http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli
Like Billy Bragg, ATI has been doing
Woodie Guthrie covers since 1988.
Usage #432
by RAW
Fnord (v) -to navigate a browser through countless conspiracy
theories while listening to Charles Manson, David Koresh, and
Louis Farrakhan albums on headphones.
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we are ATI
()()()()()()
I'm rooting for Luna. More ways than you can imagine. "Possiblemente"
more Lunas than you knew existed. This Luna I talk about today plays
wing and center for Mexico's World Cup soccer team. He doesn't wear
a Nike Swoosh on his shirt and he doesn't punch umpires. His team is
down 2-0 right now under Holland's team.
If he can get a couple goals without getting clipped for offsides
they'll win an exciting match.
Aside from that, Mexico's being dominated pretty heavily.
More ways than we can ever know.
Alguien dijo "buy nothing?"
Alguien dijo "quadruple canopy rainforest??
Did somebody say where's the beef?
Did somebody say e-coli?
Did somebody say Ted Nugent has the IQ of crabs?
/____________ Prime Anarchist
\ Is Not An Actor
(PAWN) - White Phosphorus Springs, W.V. - STICKING AROUND by the edge.
Ziff-David, along with Prime Anarchist Products, makers of bad cleaning
agents, yahooism (tm) and sticky surfboards announced a new car product
this morning.
Bug-Out (tm) Coat your auto with ths product.
Main ingred: Fecal Coliform, DDT and Olean.
Insects, sand, hail, hitch-hikers and any other foreign objects will
stick to it, vaporize and then disappear into thin air. You will have
a clean car with no more effort for the next 20 years.
</big> Warning: Do not park over storm drains. May cause cramps,
migraines, miscarriage, cholera and grumpiness.
(PAWN)-WASHINGTON STATE, WA. MACROSOFT WINS EYEBROWS AWARD
Prime Anarchist. Special to Prime Anarchist World News.
William "Duke" Neukom, Macrosoft vice precedent for loincloths
and co-operative affairs, domestic and incestuous, won "bushiest
eyebrows" in Redmond AND the semi-annual VBits "just browsing" award
on the same day in New York City, making him the first US diplocrat
to breed loathing, discontent AND resentment on both coasts in the same
evening.
"Mine are bigger," said H Ross Perot Wednesday.
"I can lick my own," said Monika Kaszinski.
"Sometimes I have to trim 'em or I inhale them," said William
Jevverson Klingon.
Newt "Eye Of" Gingrich said he burned his off in a cigar accident.
Macrosoft hailed the award. It "affirms the central principal that
every red-blooded American wants to pull 60-80 hours a week to gross
$50K a year and spend about 80K a year so they can owe all the banks
that owe me money."
"That way I get half."
"Besides, they get free java."
Duke Neukom could not be reached for comment, but his secretary did
mention that he is an avid fan of ATI and reads it with the grunge kids
and the gen-Xers in the bathrooms all over Seattle.
-23-
"Sometimes it's hard to avoid the happines of others."
-- Northern Exposure's DJ, Chris in the Morning.
/what do the phollowing products have in common? /
/Bull's Eye BBQ sauce, Philadelphia Cream Cheese /
/International Coffees, Mueslix, Stove Top Stuff /
/Doritos, Athenos Feta, Mac n Cheese, Grape-nuts /
/Kool-Aid, Sanka, Maxwell House, Cheez Whiz, /
/Shake n Bake, Cracker Barrell, Tang, MiracleWhip/
/Toblerone, Jell-O, Minute Rice, and Oscar Mayer!/
They are all owned by the world's largest /
tobacco company. (disclaimer, ATI is neither /
"for" nor "against" tobacco, just that we /
felt you ought to know.) /
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we are ATI
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D.
a poem by prime anarchist
I hear your voice
And have a feeling
You haven't yet found it.
Do you know how good it is?
Has it "hit" you yet?
4, feedback is the necessary evil.
I hear your voice--
A good feeling.
32
ibid.
If you floss you shall live longer.
Not for the flossing -
But for that you ARE doing it.
Count to 15.
Then back down to one.
Some break it down into quadrants.
Perhaps they're missing two very great
Moments:
Going there; coming back.
"The journey IS the destination
Says my lampshade.
Not the first light I've listened to.
Won't be the last.
If you listen to your light
You will live more deliberately.
Listen.
32.
Hear it?
See it?
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we are ATI
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Short Rhetorical Poem
by Onion Set
Desire college degree
For other than securing
"good" job
I.
Only left?
JUNE NOON OBSERVATION
a poesy
We may just be
A couple purchases away
From the whole world
Smelling
Like
People shit.
An Open Letter to Bill Clinton (and whoever you turn over your
famous gold-leafed briefcase to year after next...)
(yes as per usual, Frucht doesn't give a rat's aggravation whether
s/he's a demican or a republicrat.)
By January 11, 2000 the entire web is going to suffer between 1/3
and 2/3 packet loss.
Naturally, as a subset, that means 30-70 percent of military data
will BOUNCE.
(trust me, I'm a hacker. I know these things.)(Nothing I've done
or anyone I know for that matter -- it'll happen of its own volition.)
Year 2000 is going to be the official discussion of the 2000
inauguration exit briefing. (unless of course, another Demipublican
in true Reaganite form gets in and, grabbing the brief case, utters his
nowfamous "Eat shit, Southern Baptist commie democrat ignoramus." rant,
walking into the fascist sunset.
Trust me I'm a hacker, I know these things. Read Carter's autobio
and then the 5,000 emails Edwin Meese tried to delete. (yes, 1979-1982)
(sorry so many parentheses lately.) =)
Are you ready for this?
(this is the only way I know how to transfer this info without pulling
a unapooper.)
SOLICIT THE VOLUNTEER AID OF HAM RADIO OPERATORS.
It's that easy, president.
They bailed you out of hurricanes, floods, and earthquakes.
Why not Y2K? Have them ready to traceroute and relay up to half of
the potential packet loss as early as middle December 1999.
Oh, and don't believe a word Senator Lieberman says. He knows about as
much about technological advances as the guy that patented the wheel and
fire.
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we are ATI
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