Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
Beyond Eternity 01
BEYOND ETERNITY ISSN 1203-5416
Episode 01 <--> December 1995
by: Sanjay Singh eternity@cyberspace.org
___________________________________________________________________
"Moving forward to the only place you know
Side tracked by some indiscretion, changing as you go,
Temptation may come hope you conscience doesn't hide
The longest trip you'll take is inside." [Yes]
Ever get the feeling that history is repeating itself, and
that you're doing the same things over and over again in an endless
cycle? Just under a year ago I was sitting on this same chair,
typing at this same computer and listening to this same CD. Just
under a year ago I was writing my first introduction to "The
Eternity Articles."
Now here we are, at the very first issue of a new product of
my mind. I've walked the walk, talked the talk, and danced the
dance. Then I took a step back and looked at my entire life from
outside my body, and realized that some changes needed to be made.
So I made them. They're still happening, but I'm sure that the
first couple of issues will be littered with stories about that, so
why should I share all of them at once?
So, without further ado... it's show time!
Contents
========
- Introduction (you just read it)
- Just What I Needed
- Fear For Sale
- Young And Innocent
- Three Writers...
- I Sue You, You Sue Me... [by Professor Zen]
- Lobster Tails [by Dahven White]
- On Fear Of Success [by Greg Webster]
- Administrivia
- Rules Of The Game
Just What I Needed
==================
"What do I want? Nothing, the only thing that I need is
forgiveness, but there's only one person that can give me
that and she won't let a conversation pass beyond the
'polite' stage anymore..."
[The Eternity Articles, Act I, Scene iv]
Well, I was close. I knew what I wanted, I just had the wrong
source. I'm actually going to be doing a lot of this over the next
issue or so. I just remember things that I said in earlier issues,
that either I just don't agree with it anymore, or I just want to
comment on it and let you all know how everything's going.
Anyways, about forgiveness... I think that was one of the key
contradictions that I had in my life. I was just too stubborn to
notice it at the time. I think that the light finally went off
when I told a friend that "there is no possible way for me to
justify what I did, and so there is no way for me to forgive
myself."
He responded with "why would one ever forgive someone for
doing right?" There was some other surrounding text, but that was
the key point in his argument. And it worked. So here I sit at my
desk over a month later, and it's finally hitting me. It didn't
actually take the full month, but the really substantial move, the
tumbler clicking into place... happened this week. And so I said
to myself what I'm about to say right now. "I forgive myself."
And just like that the guilt is gone. What I thought was a
shield that I could hide behind was actually a cage that I was
sealed into. The claim that "why should I feel guilty for my
present crimes, when my past ones are so much worse?" was working
in tandem with my mind to make sure that I could never escape. But
I couldn't get past the guilt. I needed to put the responsibility
of my own forgiveness on someone else's shoulders. I was just a
slave to whenever she chose to release me. Of course, it was a
safe choice, since I knew that she wasn't a part of my life
anymore. If I didn't see the light, I might have never been able
to escape. I thought that she had the only key.
The turnaround happened when I started listening to my mind.
It was the jailor, but it was also captive with me. It told me to
acknowledge that it existed and to start living again. I put up a
good fight until I had no more weapons available to me. My mind
just kept on throwing rationality at me, and eventually, I realized
that I couldn't fight fact. Fact is fact, I can't just ignore the
truth. And that was the moment that I truly became free.
Fear For Sale
=============
"When I was very young, I went to a grade school in New
York City called Saint Bart's for Boys... The brothers
and sisters were very strict, you know, my butt caught
the bamboo more than a few times. But I didn't hate it.
Those rules made me feel important, they made me feel
worth protecting." [from Homicide: Life on the Streets]
I stopped by the local store this afternoon on the way home
from class. I had a craving for some chicken fingers, and
remembered that I had no barbecue sauce to eat them with. That's
how I ended up there. Now, after grabbing my sauce, I decided to
do a quick sweep over the magazine rack, just to see what was in.
Everything was pretty much the same, but then I saw this one thin
little magazine peeking out from behind all the others. Actually,
all I saw was the white bar across the top, and in big blue
friendly letters, this headline:
Behind the News * Big Brother * UFOs * Unexplained
Now after seeing that, I had no choice. I had to buy it.
Actually, what convinced me was the cover. With topics like
"Earthquakes linked to nuclear tests!" and "The bitter truth about
artificial sweeteners," I couldn't resist. The magazine was called
Nexus (in case you were curious) which I thought was deliciously
cute.
I suppose I should explain where I stand on this to begin
with. No, I am not paranoid. And yes, I am proud of that. I know
the little paranoia game that people play, which is fine. You
know, finding conspiracies in everything, and mentioning that the
world is out to get you... but the reality of the topic never
really hit home until today when I got home and started reading
this magazine. There are people who actually live in fear of Big
Brother.
Now, I'll agree that fear is undoubtedly the greatest weapon
in the arsenal of psychological warfare. We see it every day, and
our parents saw it even more during the cold war. It's a great
tool to manipulate people, but that doesn't mean that you need to
sign over your life to it.
Do you want to know what really scares me? People that
honestly believe that the world is out to get them. People that
think that "one man cannot make a difference". People who live
their lives as if they were victims of the system, but instead of
trying to save themselves, they sink even deeper into the role of
the victim. These people exist. Hell, I was one of them. Believe
me, I was even afraid of myself back then.
Now, this is where I'm supposed to follow some kind of
editorial etiquette and say that everyone, even the paranoids, are
entitled to their own opinions. But every time I try to write
that, I remember something that a friend said to me two nights ago.
"Opinion is a denial of truth. For if each man is
entitled to his own opinion then there can be nothing
which is false, consequently there can be nothing which
is true." [Andrew Juric]
So, that pretty eliminates any sense of 'fair play' that I may have
once held. Maybe it's because all of the columnists are doctors
and university professors, and they're acting like frightened
children. Maybe it's because they seem to have conveniently
forgotten to mention logical facts that could shatter their
arguments, that I refuse to use my sense of mythics to justify
their beliefs.
Is it really possible that fluoride is put into our water
because it helps fight tooth decay, or is it really in there
because there are over twenty fluorinated tranquillizing compounds?
Or maybe it's used to subdue the chemically enhanced soldiers that
were fun to play with during war times, but when they were released
back into society, they just didn't fit in too well. Or maybe it's
all part of some huge international ploy to disintegrate the ozone
layer! After all, rainfall in the Mojave Desert has 0.7 parts per
million of hydrofluoric acid, and the Siberian tundra has 0.3 ppm.
How can it be?
So, perhaps I'm being naive about this entire issue. Maybe
there is a huge conspiracy to hide the fact that it could be
possible that an alien race landed on the moon before us. And
maybe there is a secret military agenda to control the number and
strength of earthquakes by detonating nuclear warheads underground.
But what do we really have to gain by accepting it. True or not,
I'm going to continue to believe that I belong in this universe,
one person can make a difference, and above all that I control my
destiny, and that the only person that I can be a victim of is
myself, since I'm the only one that can destroy me.
On a final note; if radio waves cause cancer, aspartame is the
poison of the 90s, and that the National Childhood Immunisation
Register (soon to be implemented in Australia, and pretty common in
the western world) is a secret way of slowly poisoning every child
in the country, then who would want control of a nation of couch-
jockeys and dying invalids? And when your population dies, who are
you in control of then?
Young And Innocent
==================
"Let's shut our eyes and pretend
And maybe once again
We can be young and innocent."
[Elefante]
Today, as I was walking to class, I got into a discussion with
a friend of mine about boots. We had our first big snowfall last
night, and it was still coming down pretty hard this morning.
Anyways, I mentioned that I'd need to bring my boots out of
retirement when I went home this weekend, and he looked at me as if
I were the crazy one. He said something like "why do you need
boots?" I mentioned how much I hate wearing wet socks, and why I
don't like it when my feet get cold. It all seemed to make a lot
of sense to me. Here I was. being all mature, and reasonable. Why
do I wear boots? So my feet stay dry and warm.
Then, on my way home, I passed a young girl. She was
ploughing through the snow, wearing a simple pair of running shoes.
She wasn't even lifting her feet off the ground, she was
intentionally pushing the snow with her shoes. Here I was, walking
home, cursing the cold underneath my breath, and this little girl
was running through the snow, making some strange crunching noise
(the same one boys make when they're playing with Tonka trucks).
That's when I realized that I was "too mature" for that sort
of thing. I remembered the glory of youth. How when I was a kid,
I had this great feeling of power. I didn't need to worry about
consequences. I was a libertarian back then. If it felt good, and
no one else got hurt, then why shouldn't I do it?
Maturity is a strange thing. I always equated maturity with
unhappiness. Maturity comes with age, and with maturity comes
expectations and responsibilities. In a way I was right, but
again, I had the source all messed up. I always bought into the
"grow up, go to university, get a job, get married, grow old, die"
plan of how to live your life. I accepted the linearity of life.
There was no point in straying from the path, because you never
heard about people that did and survived.
Of course we heard endless stories about what would happen if
we strayed from the path. "You need to learn how to play the
piano" but with that came "Why would you want to be a musician?"
Dreams are fine, but they're not practical. How I hate that word.
From the people who brought you the crazy notion of sacrifice comes
the idea that if it's not practical, then there's no point in doing
it.
Want to know why we never heard about the people that followed
their own path, and stuck to it even when doubt appeared? They did
survive, and their path led to utopia. A place where dreams come
true, because no one will tell you "you can't do that". I know the
place exists. I've met someone that lives there.
Maturity? Bah! I'm going to slide down the driveway in my
shoes right now. Better to regret what you did do than what you
didn't.
Three Writers...
================
"People seldom see the halting and painful steps by which
the most insignificant success is achieved." [Anne
Sullivan]
I was thinking of what would be the perfect way to finish this
issue. I wanted it to be special. It's like your first day in a
new environment, you want it to be extra-perfect because you know
that you'll never get a second chance at that day again (until you
move, or restart). Plus, whenever you start off on the right foot,
things tend to flow in that direction.
Finally it dawned on me as I was driving home this afternoon.
I already had the Greg Webster article ready to go with this issue,
but what would happen if I gave some room to two other writers.
All have affected me in some way, and I think that this is perhaps
the best way for me to acknowledge them. All four of us, side by
side, each with our own ideas of what we want the world to be, and
each of us with our own similar, but different, ways of finding and
expressing who we are.
Professor Zen, as I've said in the past, is one of the select
few that were responsible for the creation of "The Eternity
Articles." At the time, I had only read two or three issues of
"Zen Anarchy," but that was all that was needed to start the
reaction. I'm tempted to say that he truly lives the Do It
Yourself lifestyle, he knows what he wants, and it would probably
be best to stay out of his way when he's going after it. Zen
Anarchy is available from ftp.etext.org in the pub/Zines/ZenAnarchy
directory, and is in a postscript format.
Dahven White, is one of the most proudly honest people that
I've ever encountered. I've never met her, but each issue of
"Cultural Debris" brings her into focus a little more in my mind.
I'd be lying if I said that she wasn't partly responsible for my
own rapid growth, and for the progression of "The Eternity
Articles" from random ranting and whining to this issue that you're
reading right now. She helped me become who I am, instead of who
I wanted others to think of me as. All that and it's fun to read.
Cultural Debris can be found at http://www.cyberzine.com/culture/.
Greg Webster, is the most recent of the writers. He started
"The Eidolonica Papers" last month. So what's his story? I think
he walked along the same line that I had. He wasn't sure which
side he should be on, life or death. He looked deep into himself
and saw that there was something worth saving, and at that moment,
he chose life. As much credit as I deserve for creating Beyond
Eternity, he deserves half of it. I'm not sure if he suggested
starting over, or if I decided it first, but the end result is what
matters, and here it is. You can get Eidolonica by sending mail to
Greg, his address is listed below.
Am I exaggerating when I thank each of them for saving my
life? No. Of course, I don't mean it literally, at least not in
the physical sense, but I wouldn't want to guess where I would be
without any of them.
I Sue You, You Sue Me...
========================
"Sometimes I really wonder about the old saying that if
you put a million monkeys in a room with typewriters, one
would eventually pound out Shakespeare. The rest would
probably be pounding out stereo manuals or government
mandates and tax forms." [Professor Zen]
by: Professor Zen <an118926@anon.penet.fi>
reprinted from "Zen Anarchy", Volume 1, Issue 6
It seems that anything and everything today is litigatable.
Just today I heard that the California State Supreme Court is
allowing a family lawyer to sue R. J. Renyolds over their Joe Camel
advertising campaign, saying that it encourages teenagers to smoke.
What in the hell is next? Is this stupid bitch going to go after
the Classic Movie Channel, since they show films in which children
might see old movie stars smoking? That seems to be her next
logical step. Then perhaps she can go after network television
shows that actually would dare to have people smoking, GOD FORBID!
I mean, don't we all know now that all these people are trying
to do is protect us. We're soooooo stupid, we just can't think for
ourselves anymore, can we? Of course not. I think it's high time
that we all pack our possessions and move to 1600 Pennsylvania
Avenue and get our rooms before the rest of the sheep catch on to
this.
Bill Clinton's band of neo-fascist safety Nazies are trying
every day to control every aspect of your lives. So are Jerry
Falwell's and (insert your favourite right wing group here...)'s
group of safety zealots. Folks, both the left and the right are
out to fuck you. They want to take away your rights and obtain
total control. You are being given a virtual mind-fuck. There are
no two ways about it.
When the movie, "The Crow", opened on a Friday the thirteenth,
the expatriates of the eighties and I went to go see it. For those
of you who enjoy dark films where good does triumph over evil
because of the strength of love, go see it. The rest of you
probably won't have any idea what in the hell is going on. No
matter. Anyway, I go to the snack bar before the film starts,
partially because I want to get some of that popcorn with the 10-30
coloured Valvoline they call butter flavoured topping, and
partially because I'm damn sick and tired of watching the idiotic
Kodak Carousel slide show advertising some shlock car dealer and
moronic movie trivia that no one cares about.
Now back to our story...
After I made my purchases, and I'm going back to my seat, I
encounter one of the minimum wage Clearasil Nazies (usher) who is
asking for people to show him their tickets. Of course, being the
shit that I can be, I shot him a look that basically said, "Don't
ask me, unless you really want to know." Apparently, it was enough
to satisfy him, so I went on by. It also may have been the fact
that I stood about 24 inches taller than him.
As I'm walking down to the theatre, a kid comes running by me.
One of the other safety Nazis tells this kid to stop running and
walk. Now as we all know, teenage boys have enormous amounts of
energy that usually are depleted completely on their wedding day.
So this kid was doing nothing more serious than having a good time,
albeit for a short amount of time. The walk to the theatre was
only probably 20 feet at most.
So the kid does stop running after he's told to do so. Fine,
but me being the Zen Anarchists that I am, I lean over to him and
say, "As soon as you get around the corner, go for it." It was the
most amazing thing! The light bulb went on in his head. Even if
for that split second, we won a battle. And you have to remember
that wars are won with battles and any victory, no matter the size,
is a victory.
The Washington Wardens want to push the Clipper chip on us.
They want to take over health care. They want to build the
information superhighway - like they have a fucking clue as to what
that even is...
Folks, these people want to run your lives. Wake up and smell
the MJB before it's too late.
I figure with the advent of cheaper and cheaper DTP [Desktop
Publishers] and hardware and the advancements being made to the net
we stand a chance to turn back this tide. We'd better, unless of
course you like being told what to think, how to think, why you
think what you think, etc...
If that ever happens, I think I might see if Kurt Cobain has
room in his new lodgings for a few more people. I don't know,
however, if I would be a traveller or the travel agent...
For all the puritanical fucks who think that I'm advocating
violence against public officials, fuck off. I don't advocate
killing anybody. I advocate the free exchange of ideas. That
probably makes me more dangerous than a serial killer. If people
think for themselves, both the left and right are fucked forever.
I'm not holding my breath, but just one mind being exposed, will
eventually become a virus, spreading and replicating.
It doesn't even matter if you agree or not. That's not
important. Not at all. What is important is that you listen to
other people and weigh all the information you can get your hands
on. Change your mind on occasion. Remember, after all, it's your
mind. Use it or surrender it.
Lobster Tales
=============
"It's true that I am kind of misanthropic. I think there
are about 5 billion people too many on the planet. I
don't have a lot of sympathy for statistics. Gerald
thinks 100 lives are 100 times more valuable than one
life. I think, 'Pass the cereal, please.'" [Dahven
White]
by: Dahven White <dahven@usa1.com>
reprinted from "Cultural Debris", Volume 1, Issue 9
Yesterday, I listened to Ted trying to peddle the Olds to the
auto wreckers. "No, it doesn't actually run," I heard him say,
"but it's got a beautiful interior, crushed velvet in a really
striking shade of sherbet green." It was horrible and agonizing.
The Oldsmobile has valiantly traversed the continent on several
occasions. It has weathered winters in Montreal and summers on the
prairies. It has not complained about crappy gas and cheap oil.
But somewhere it is written how many strokes a piston will strike
and the Oldsmobile has struck its last. It suffered a bout of
incontinence on the Grandview Highway, dropped its transmission
during rush hour, and was towed home in disgrace.
"Let go of the car," I said to Ted after six months. "Don't
force it to sit ignominiously in front of the house, shamed,
unused, its tires going flat for everyone to see. Leave it a
vestige of dignity." The neighbours were beginning to complain.
After twelve months, I said, "Don't think of it as a casualty in
the war of time. Think of it as an organ donor. It cheats death
by living on as parts in the bodies of other cars with adventures
still before them." Ted is a Taurus. He values loyalty above all
else. After a year and a half, I said, "Ted, it's time," and he
knew I was right.
Ted didn't want me to watch him while he phoned the wreckers.
No man wants to be witnessed in the act of betrayal. I sat in the
next room where I could still hear the sound of death. Each
beeping number sounded like a tiny yelp to my guilty ears. And I
thought, "Oh GOD! Let this be over soon. It's just like boiling
LOBSTERS." You know what I mean?
Everybody in my family loves lobsters but no one wants to be
the one to drop them into the pot. When I was six, my mother
convinced me that the lobsters could be dropped into the pot with
impunity if they were put to sleep first. This could be
accomplished by stroking their tails until they curled them up
under their lobster bellies. With the benefit of hindsight, I have
to admit that it seems unlikely that they didn't notice being
boiled alive. But at the time, I believed that I was sending the
lobsters to their deaths with happy visions of algae dancing in
their heads. And I believed that the killing must fall to me since
I was the only person willing to stroke the lobsters until they
dropped their antennae. No lobster ever faced death with open eyes
in my house. An hour before dinner, I'd start cooing to the
lobsters. One lobster would drift off to sleep in my hands and
another would wake up. Dinner would be delayed. It was a
time-consuming process. Do you have any idea how many hours of my
childhood I spent stroking lobster tails? I grew up on the East
Coast. Summers were an endless lobster party. If I had used those
hours more fruitfully, I might have learned to juggle knives or...
or repair transmissions. Can you believe it? My treacherous
mother exploited my over-developed superego and condemned me to an
eternity with lobster juice on my hands. Not to mention a lifetime
of failed transmissions!
By the time I was 18, I had pretty much realized that my
efforts were wasted. I gave up stroking lobster tails but I wasn't
ready to give up eating them. Fortunately, I started having
boyfriends around that time. There was another crisis a few years
later when I learned that lobsters are better steamed than boiled.
I phoned the Aquarium to ask if steaming would cause a slower, more
agonizing death than boiling. They didn't know. I phoned
restaurants. Try this sometime: "Hello, Bishops? Do you serve
lobster? No, I don't want to make a reservation. I need to know
if a lobster will suffer a more painful death through steaming than
boiling. Could I speak to your chef please?"
I know how Ted felt when he condemned the Olds to the auto
wreckers. He felt like he was dropping the lobsters into a pot of
boiling water. He felt the weight of that death as keenly as
though he himself were the one clamping the metal jaws of the car
crusher around the Olds' slender frame. And listening to him do it
was like listening to the lobsters screaming, beating their claws
against the sides of the pot, their joints hissing under the force
of the expanding air. If I were a better person, I would have done
the dirty deed myself. But let me tell you, now that I'm a
grown-up, I NEVER let myself be tricked into killing the lobsters.
I LOVE being an adult.
On Fear Of Success
==================
"Serge was an older man, in his 60's. He always had a
joke and a smile and a wink for those around him. I
spent most of my lunch hours talking with him as we
walked around a nearby pond (something you need to do
during lunch hours if you are a telemarketer)." [Greg
Webster]
by: Greg Webster <kick@freenet.vancouver.bc.ca>
Why am I telling you this? Good question. Glad you asked.
I want to let anyone who is like me in the problems I'm having here
know that they are not alone, and maybe give them the little bit of
good advice I can give. Hope I'm "successful". Enjoy.
When someone (like me) makes a decision to get life moving in
a positive direction, a lot of emotions spring up - ones I never
knew I had, and never expected to have to think about. Certainly
I never expected to be afraid of doing a good job and succeeding at
something.
Three months ago I got involved in a government sponsored
course covering all the basic and important issues of job seeking
and employment. The course involves a lot of things: self-
confidence, self-esteem, conflict resolution and management,
on-the-job first aid, computer basics (not needed by me), high
school equivalency (not needed by me either), stress management,
personal development, job shadowing (following someone around for
a while, learning about their job), work experience (free labour
for a company in your career field) and, most important of all,
finding you a career.
This last bit is exactly why I entered this course, a decent
job in my chosen field (once I found out what that was). Something
that I'd enjoy, and something that I would stick with, simply
because I'd enjoy it.
I went through a lot of different ideas of what I wish to be
when I "grow up", finally coming to rest on computer instruction
for employment counselling or business schools. And it all seems
to be working out for me, by the time you read this I've already
gone to aid instructors at an employment counselling business and
a business training school. Whether or not I'm successful at these
work experiences is really immaterial. The problem, as I told you,
is fear of success.
When I went to speak to the people at the business school, I
felt like I was moving forward at a very nice, fast pace. Maybe
too fast, because my mind decided to sabotage me. Luckily my
subconscious didn't pick the interview time to do so, instead
waiting until I was home alone to slap self-doubt onto my soul.
Obviously, I need to take care of this feeling, so I can start
moving ahead with the success I'm looking for. So, how the heck do
I do that?
Well, first off I've talked about how I felt. With friends,
with the facilitators at school, and mainly with myself. I read a
few books on related subjects in the past few days trying to calm
myself down and talk myself out of that lack of self-worth that is
carried inside all of us.
And because I went all out trying to get past this, I've
learned a few things:
- I still want success, no matter what my demons say.
- Everyone feels self-doubt. Everyone.
- I'm worth only as much as I say I am worth.
Tricky little thing, my mind... it reads those sentences and
asks "What if?". What if there are reasons for self-doubt? What
if I am not "meant for success"? What if I'm not "worth it"?
Well, I can't answer for any of you, but to hell with my mind!
I spent far too much time trapped by the bullshit everyone else fed
me, I can't spend the rest of my life trapped by the bullshit I'm
feeding myself.
I've got my problems, but so what? I know I'm qualified for
what I'm doing... I like the tutoring and teaching that I have
done... I want to see where everything goes when I put a little
effort in.
I've got to get past the problems I do have and accept so that
I have the self-confidence I need to be successful.
The biggest problem I have is that I'm ordinarily not a very
organized person, and I know this contributes to the troubles I'm
talking about here, so I have to change that part of my routine.
Any suggestions for doing so will surely be accepted and
tested, success in what I'm doing is surely that important to me.
So far I found:
I need SHELVING, DAMMIT!!! SHELVING!!!
I need BOOKCASES UPON BOOKCASES!!!
I need a -*=|SYSTEM|=*- !!!
Now, if I could figure out what that system is, I could
probably solve all sorts of world problems, organize world
contraception efforts, and reduce the deficit.
I need a success in order to start working on my systems that
will enable me to get a success.
Seems like circular logic, but really it isn't. I need one
small success in order to get my bigger success, and that's exactly
what everyone's been telling me all along. Start small, keep
working, and eventually it will all come together. The "system"
idea is one of those first steps, one of those "small successes".
Hey, seems like it could work for me. The lottery is the only
other way I can see my way around that. And so far I've had
horrible luck with that. I have no idea whether it could work for
you, seems like it isn't too farfetched that others need that
organization, or need a "system" to get them going, so that's what
I'm suggesting here.
So... perhaps I can't offer you the solution to all your
problems in an instant. But maybe, just maybe... I can suggest
that you start moving, keep moving, and the momentum will keep you
going.
Keep swimming folks... and eventually the water may learn to
hold you up.
Administrivia...
================
Beyond Eternity (ISSN 1203-5416) is a monthly serial that is
written (for the most part) and compiled by Sanjay Singh, and then
edited by Paul Sheen and Sanjay Singh. You can find older (or even
current) issues from any of these places...
mail: eternity@cyberspace.org
web: http://www.interlog.com/~vash
ftp: ftp.etext.org: /pub/Zines/Eternity/
gopher: gopher.etext.org (follow the prompts)
usenet: alt.zines
subscriptions: Just send me mail, I'll add you to the list. All I
ask is that you let me know what you think about
"Beyond Eternity...", and you can even mention how
you found out about it. It's a small price to pay,
but that's all I ask for.
As always, if you have a question, comment, statement, rant,
or anything, feel free to let me know. (Who knows, you might even
feel better that you did it.) There's always room for me to
improve, and there's always room for outside contributions. When
I say that one person can make a difference, that includes you.
Rules Of The Game
=================
I take full responsibility of the overall content here. There
might be other writers but what goes into this is my choice.
Copyright is held by whoever wrote the article, and if it doesn't
say who they were, then it was me. I'd strongly suggest asking
them for permission before you reprint anything that was written in
here (this includes my stuff). Chances are that I won't object,
but I'd still like to know.
In past issues of The Eternity Articles, I was asked if what
I had written was true. I'll state this for the record now,
"everything I write is true to me". As for the other writers,
well, you'd have to ask them. As a general rule I'm not going to
print pure fiction anymore, unless I think that it has a message
that's worth relaying.
I think that's all that needs to be said. Talk to you next
month.
Sanjay Singh (11/27/95)
