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The Eternity Articles Act 1 Scene 07
__________________________________________________
/ /
/ The Eternity Articles /
/ /
/ Act I, Scene vii -- September 1995 /
/_________________________________________________/
\ \
\ Who am I?: Sanjay Singh \
\ eternity@cyberspace.org \
\_________________________________________________\
"The morning sun rises to greet him, and in its low, warm
light he stands like some sort of pagan god, or deposed
tyrant, staring out over the city he's sworn to... stare
out over. And it's evident, just by looking at him that
he's got some pretty heavy things on his mind." [from
The Tick]
First thing on the agenda... Everyone say hello to the
alt.ziners. I've decided to post this issue there. I'm not really
sure if it's safe to leave the nest, but after seven months maybe
it is time to see if we'll fly on our own, or if we'll crash into
the rocks under the tree...
I've been doing a lot of thinking in the past couple of weeks.
It all started after I wrote that last issue. I got a few
interesting letters after I put it out. A couple of people that I
knew sent me mail telling me that they never knew that side of me.
I also got some mail from people that just didn't want to hear
anymore. On top of it all though, I did get some mail supporting
me, which was nice. Nothing forces a greater reaction in people
than opening up. Different people react differently to it, but
they all react, and quite strongly too.
Overall, the big question that was asked, was the same one
that I've been asking myself. Why am I telling you this? Why am
I exposing myself to the world? Everyone that knows me will tell
you that I'm one of the most private, reclusive people around.
This doesn't really fit that profile, does it?
The way I see it is that I'm still in control. Maybe even
more now than ever. Every piece of the puzzle that you have was
provided by me, and I try to keep track of what's being said,
especially when I'm saying it. You're never going to be able to
find one single source that will tell you who I am. I don't like
that idea. If you want to, you can go through all the information
available, and make the effort, you could probably paint a fairly
accurate picture of who I am. I'm not going to just present who I
am to you on a platter. I'd rather leave a trail of breadcrumbs,
and if you want to follow them, you can. It's more fun that way.
So, now what to write about next? That's the big question.
I was going to go even further into my past, and then realized all
of a sudden that I didn't need to. I told you my past, or at least
part of it, and there wasn't really a need to go any further. So,
now I've pretty much scrapped all of what I had written for this
issue that you're reading. Nothing too major, actually, just one
article, and I've rewritten the old introduction into the article
called "Pain."
And with that... on with the show...
Eureka!
=======
"You've bought into the 'system' your whole life, and it
got you nowhere. You were at the top of your class in
high school, you were the darling of your sorority, and
people still treated you like your success was a way to
prove their 'system' was right. No more. You get by on
your own... with the help of someone who works for you
now." [Wraith: The Oblivion]
I've got it! I've finally figured out why I'm doing this.
Any of you that have been here for most of the issues, should know
by now that I've constantly been trying to explain why I'm doing
this, and I think I've finally figured it out.
For as long as I can remember, everyone's been telling me that
I can't do this, and I can't do that. I think I was on the brink
of this discovery when I dedicated the last issue to Ms. Waterbury,
but it really hit home this week. I've always been put into the
cage before I found out that there was a life outside of the wall.
And then, when I grew up, and learned how to build the wall myself,
I kept on adding to it. Soon it became impossible to get out. I'm
my own prisoner. I've become Number Six. What a wonderful
feeling.
It's really easy to start believing that you're a second class
person if everyone's always telling you that. After all so many
people couldn't be wrong, could they? The problem was that I
wasn't really listening to the people that actually knew me. I
just heard the 'struggling artist' stories, and figured that if
they couldn't do it, then who was I to try. And so I didn't try.
Why set yourself up for failure?
Anyways, so now that I've figured it out, I can be immature,
and declare war. I'm not sure if this was the battle I've been
hiding from for a while. That one was (or will be) against myself,
or at least, against all of the demons that I've created over the
past five years. This war will be against them. We all have a
them, just as much as we all have a her or a him (as in "I saw her
the other day..." or "I miss her"), and they are always there.
They come from within, and they come from the outside as well. Who
hasn't had any doubts? Who never felt the intoxication of fear?
Who's never been told 'you can't do that' or 'that's impossible?'
I don't need to keep on beating myself up over the past. I
know that now. I've always been holding myself half in the past
and half in the future. Waiting for the right time to begin the
war... I think that that time has come, and I will not fail.
Pain
====
"Pain. I started cuttings on myself when I was quite
young. The backs of my arms. I did it with a knife. I
didn't learn it from anyone. It was the way I knew I was
alive and human. At the time I hadn't developed enough
to understand why I was doing it." [Greta, body piercer]
Pain was a natural next step, to me, after the accident that
I was talking about last issue. When you think that you've felt
all the pain that the world can throw at you, then you'd be
surprised how little you hurt. I never took happiness for granted
since then, and anything that went wrong, was considered a penance.
This relationship ends, well that's just part of the payment. A
couple of my cousins nearly get killed in an accident coming up
from New York for the long weekend, well I guess that's just
another bill to be paid.
This is why I get so terrified when the thought of even
causing the smallest amount of pain to anyone enters my mind. I've
felt pain. I know it. I know every nuance, every detail, every
emotion that is attached to it. I know how low it can take you,
and I know the heights that it can take you to as well. Believe
me, it's not something I'm proud of. It's not a special talent
that I try to advertise whenever I can, but it's as much a part of
me as my hands. I might be able to get by without it, but it
wouldn't be the same me. It would cripple me. I don't want anyone
else to know pain. I don't want anyone else to feel pain. All the
pain in the world is mine to bear. If you really want the pain,
that's fine, have all you want, but anything left over is mine.
When you dance with the devil, he gets to choose the music.
A friend once told me that if she had a magic wand that would
take away all the pain, she would use it on me. Seemed like the
deal of the century at the time. Now, I'm not so sure. Maybe if
I had the want I'd use it on the world first. But I don't know.
High ideals are one thing in theory, but when push comes to shove,
then what? Like I said, I wouldn't be me without the pain. I
wouldn't have my dark, gloomy, brooding spells. I wouldn't get
euphoric when I have a good day, and try to explain why I'm so
happy to people that I know.
I remember telling her that if I had it all to do over again,
that I don't think I would change what happened. I didn't know why
I said it then, and I haven't achieved any great wisdom since then.
It just doesn't seem right. Back to ideals, I believe that if you
make a mistake, you pay the price yourself. There's probably only
one day that I would take back in my life. July 27, 1990. Why?
Let's just say that that was just the one mistake that shouldn't
have been made. I broke a promise to a friend, and no matter how
many times I tell myself that I didn't mean to hurt her, I told her
I wouldn't and I did. It's unforgivable, and I deserved what I
got, or what I lost. End of round three.
Trauma
======
"It floats around, it's got to land on somebody. It was
my turn, that's all. I was in the path of the tornado.
I didn't expect the storm would last as long as it has."
[from The Shawshank Redemption]
Trauma affects everyone differently. Some people let
everything out in one burst, others bury it deep down inside. I
lash out at everyone in my path, not caring if you're friend or
foe. If you're in my way, you will be hit by the storm. And after
the storm, my mind clears and I can look around and see the damage
that was done. This is when the pain hits. And it hits hard.
It's always followed by the guilt and self-loathing, and that lead
to the philosophy that if I can get up in the morning, and look at
myself in the mirror, and not want to spit on the reflection, I can
get on with the day.
So what do I do to solve that problem? Build a wall, a big
wall, that surrounds me. And everytime I feel the pain, and I know
that the grenade will go off, I add another row of bricks. So what
if no one can get in, at least no one will be hurt in the
explosion.
Anger
=====
"Rage cannot be hidden, it can only be dissembled. This
dissembling deludes the thoughtless, and strengthens rage
and adds, to rage, contempt." [James Baldwin]
I never really liked anger, anger and rage seemed like
fabulous ways to waste your time, when you could be doing something
more interesting. Maybe that's why I like baseball. It's not a
really angry sport. You really need to let go of everything to be
able to play. You can't hit a 95 mph fastball if you're seething
at the pitcher for beaning you in the head last time. You let go
of all the anger, and you swing for the fences. You don't get that
with football or hockey. It always seems to help to go in with a
lot of anger, and a lot of rage. It gets you pumped up. Get's the
adrenaline going, and you're juiced. Ready to take on the world.
There's a lot of things you're not supposed to do when you're
angry. You're not supposed to drive, drink, get a haircut, buy
bullets, and the list just goes on and on. I've figured out
another one. I picked up a jigsaw puzzle last week, and I've spent
many an hour lately putting it together. I almost shoved the
entire thing off of the table just now, and realized that it was
probably a good time to vent... and so here we are.
Now the big question is... why am I so angry? It all has to
do with respect. A guy on my floor two years ago told me "it's all
about respect," and he was right. It is all about respect. You
respect me, I respect you. Simple equation. One my father doesn't
seem to get too clearly.
He comes home tonight, and patiently awaits my return from
playing ball at the park down the street. It's been a really good
week, and I've been really happy. Things are going very well.
Until this. Anyways, he waits for me to come home, and then tells
me that I'm supposed to pick up a karaoke machine for his partner's
daughter's birthday party tomorrow, and install it for them.
Now usually, I wouldn't complain. But I had plans for
tomorrow, and changing them would really screw things up for
everyone involved, so I told him that. Now, he tries to tell me
that I'll be getting paid for this (his standard argument), and I
remind him that I'm not as obsessed with the almighty dollar as he
would like me to be. From there, the situation gets worse.
I tell him that I'd like it if he would actually ask me before
volunteering my time elsewhere. He said that he had to make a
decision. To me it seemed like he shouldn't even be in on this
decision, but he likes to get involved, it's an easy way to impress
people. Volunteer someone to do your dirty work, and pick up all
the credit for being the middle man.
Granted, as anyone that's known me for long enough will tell
you, my relationship with my father is more of a business
relationship than anything, I've accepted that. It's kind of hard
to think of him as my own flesh and blood when his idea of getting
ahead in the world involves stepping on/over/past whoever's in your
way. The classic office sniper, shooting you down as soon as you
stick your neck out. What's not to respect there? We may be
slightly dysfunctional, but that still doesn't mean that he can
volunteer my time for me without asking. Am I being unreasonable
here?
To my father, time is one of the most precious commodities
(after money, of course) in the world. If you make him five
minutes late for anything, he'll start pouting and complaining
about how late he is. Last week I went out to see Waterworld (not
recommended by the way) and he drove in, just as I was driving out.
He volunteered to drive me to where I was supposed to meet a
friend, so I agreed, I also told him that I was already running
late, and that we'd have to leave now. So I go and wait in the
car, meanwhile, he's inside the house fixing himself a snack.
I always thought it was simple. I respect you, you respect
me. I respect your time, you respect mine. 1+1=2. Guess I was
wrong, some things just aren't that simple.
What A Wonderful World
======================
"I do not permit affection, or lack thereof, to influence my
actions. There is good, and there is evil. The good must be
protected; the evil eradicated. I have shown you the triumph
of evil, as a caution." [Neil Gaiman]
What I've noticed, more than anything since I wrote the last
issue is that I wasn't necessarily the one that was screwed up.
And never underestimate the effect that observation can have on
your life. I didn't need to feel alone, because the world is so
much more twisted than I can imagine. People are sick, both in
thought and in action. Don't believe me, think about this:
-> Yesterday some kid threw a shotgun shell onto the stage at
Lollapalooza when Hole was playing. Just in case this is
confusing, I'll fill in some details... Hole is fronted by
Courtney Love, who is Kurt Cobain's widow. Cobain (lead
singer of Nirvana), shot himself with a shotgun just over a
year ago. Now I'm not the biggest Nirvana/Hole fan, which you
might have noticed, but this goes far beyond cruelty. That
just wasn't fair.
-> Bob Dole (unfortunately he'll probably be the next president
of the United States) has this really interesting theory. He
wants to legalize assault weapons, because people need an uzi
under their pillows to feel safe at night. That's all fine
and dandy, but he seems to have this crazy idea that rap music
is causing kids to kill kids, and pretty much all other forms
of inner city crime.
This led to yet another great restaurant discussion.
Different opponent/friend this time, but still interesting. I
brought up the idea that there is no such thing as a selfless act
anymore. People only do things when they stand to gain something.
And as insignificant as what they have to gain is compared to what
they're giving, they're still getting something. And in their own
minds, that's the only thing that matters. The only free lunch
you'll find now is in the supermarket in a sample tray, but they
expect you to buy a box of whatever it is that they're selling.
It's the same strategy that drug dealers use in school yards. The
first time is free, then once you're hooked, they raise the price.
Not pretty, but neither is advertising.
So he, being the one that just automatically disagrees with me
regardless of what I say, says that that's not true. So now the
line is drawn. He starts telling me how there's good in everyone,
and how everyone really wants to do the right thing. I tell him
that that wasn't what the statement was about. All I said was that
no one does anything nice without an ulterior motive. And this was
the example that I gave to him.
Busy day in traffic. You're motoring along and you see
someone that's trying to get into your lane on the highway. So you
let them in. What do you expect? A simple thank-you wave, right?
No big deal, but at that moment, it is the single most important
focus of your life. If you get it, then you're happy. But if you
don't then you get upset. So now the connection is made, you're
nice in traffic because you want the acknowledgement. It's not
really a bad thing, but it's just part of the transaction. You do
a good deed, not for the sake of doing the deed, but for the
response. You may deny this out loud, but I'll bet that the voice
in the back of your head is saying, yeah!
Would the boyscout really do a good deed each and every day if
he wasn't going to get his merit badge at the end of the month?
And Yet There's Hope
====================
"With each passing day oblivion encroaches further. With
every soul that surrenders to shadow, the end draws
nearer. The world is not as we knew it, decay's sweet
stench now clings to all we once held dear. It is called
the Shadowlands. In death there is nowhere to hide,
nowhere to run, from the hate and fear, the pain and
bitterness, the shadow within. Hope is fragile and few
have the courage, the passion, to face death, and say, 'I
do not go gentle into that good night.'" [Wraith: The
Oblivion]
I just remembered this on the drive into work this morning,
and since there was nothing for me to do when I got in, I figured
that I might as well write it down since you'll be getting this on
Monday, and I still need a couple more pages to complete this
issue, so what would be a more Hollywood way to end this issue than
with a Pandoric (oooh look, I made up a word) tale of hope and
redemption. Jeri Taylor couldn't have done better. Pretenama for
everyone.
In case you wanted to know what I was talking about in those
last sentences, I'll give you a quick run down... Jeri Taylor is
the person responsible for the downfall of Star Trek. I was never
a huge fan of the show, but at least it was watchable before she
came on and turned every episode into a touchy feely piece of art.
And if you've ever seen V, or more specifically, the last five
minutes of "V: The Final Battle" you'll know exactly what I mean
by Pretenama. I'll just sum it up by saying that if you consider
the millions of possible endings for that movie, you couldn't come
up with a worse way to end the movie than the way they did. I
would have been happier if the Earth blew up. Hell, I would have
been happier if the self destruct just turned out to be a dud and
didn't work at all. As a friend one said to me... "nothing but
cheddar."
But I digress, as usual, so I'll get back on with the idea.
It's a heart warming tale. It just gave me a warm and tingly
feeling inside and so I had to share it. I went to the Toronto
versus Cleveland game on Tuesday night (the game was a bit of a let
down, but that's not what this is about). There were two girls in
the seats behind me. At first they were annoying me because one of
them was constantly talking, and talking, and talking. Well, one
of them was talking. But at least she was talking about baseball.
She didn't go to the game to just say she went to the game, she was
actually into the game. She was just telling her sister (I'm
guessing, since they looked almost identical) about the game.
Explaining some of the details of the game, and why they played
certain songs when certain batters came up. Now before you stop
reading this, the fact that it looked like we had another
generation of baseball fans being formed right in front of me
(well, behind me) is not what made me feel all warm and fuzzy
inside. Two people won't make a difference, baseball as we know it
won't even exist in another fifteen or twenty years. (And you
heard it here first!) The game's already shot itself in the foot,
and instead of trying to stop the infection, it's walking across a
bed of rusty nails. Again, I digress...
After the sixth inning the two girls come back from one of the
McDonalds inside the dome and this time the girl is talking about
saving the rest of her money so she can buy something that she
wants. Maybe I should mention that the girls couldn't have been
older than 10 years old, well maybe 13... This is why I couldn't
host one of those 'guess your age' booths. Anyways, so now we see
a bit of responsibility. This is a good thing. She probably might
save her money for a week or two before blowing it on something
else, but at least she was going to try. But that's not even what
impressed me. It was what she said next. Her sister asked her
something like "why'd you buy the popcorn then," but that's a
guess. I didn't hear the question, but her answer was beautiful.
She said that "sometimes you have to just treat yourself." In a
time when kids buy baseball cards and comics just so they can watch
them go up in value, and never sell them off, we have a girl that
believes in treating herself. She knows what she wants, and she
tries to make an effort to do it. Living for today instead of a
future that you won't even recognize when you get there. Maybe we
have a fighting chance after all.
The New Ball And Chain
======================
"You know what you have to do... Your job, your purpose
is to get accepted, get a cute girlfriend, think up
something great to do for the rest of your life. What if
you're confused and can't imagine a career? What if
you're funny looking and can't get a girlfriend? You
see? No one wants to hear it." [from Pump Up The
Volume]
I can't believe I didn't think about writing this one earlier.
After all, the date at the top of this issue, does say September.
And what happens in September for most people under 25? Yes, we go
back to school. And since no one's given me anything to do yet
today, and since the mail came in, and had a magazine article on
the value of education that I read before putting it on his desk
(he won't be back until Tuesday, like you needed to know that), I
figured why not go for it? Plus it adds a really neat tie-in with
the "How To Make Education Count" article, from way back in scene
v (July).
The article was a really good one that is worth reading, but
since I can't afford a law suit right now, you're going to have to
track it down yourself... It's in the September 1995 issue of
"Canadian Business" and I have no idea how you'll find that outside
of Canada, but I'm sure the same story is flying around all over
the place anyways, probably the only thing you can depend on the
media for.
Picture this... You're an accountant, you're thirty-five, and
you have a family to support. You're also bored. Getting up in
the morning, just doesn't seem worth it. You like playing with the
numbers, and playing with little details, but doing it for the
corporate world, just doesn't seem like fun. Of course, you're
thirty and have a family, so life shouldn't be fun thanks to the R
word (Responsibility). You think to yourself that being a teacher
wouldn't be half bad. You'd get your summers off, you'd have more
time to spend with the family that you're killing yourself for.
Yeah, that's what you'd like to do. Even better, you could teach
accounting, you've trained people at work, so at least you have
some experience.
So how do you go about doing this now? What do you need to be
able to teach? Oh, you have to go to teacher's college for two
years. You have to pay for two years of teacher's college. You
won't be making any money then. How's your family going to get by
without the money? And your mind says FLUSH and the dream starts
to spiral away.
Who likes stopping and watching the world pass them by.
People change their minds. What you want to do when you're ten,
will probably change by the time that you're twenty, and then again
at thirty. The average person has five complete career changes
during their life (according to my sister). But at the current
pace that we're on, all of our degrees and diplomas are going to be
so specialized that unless you can afford to take the time to
retrain yourself, you're stuck.
I've heard that my school has been thinking about removing
some other courses on the way to a computer science degree, so they
can add more computer courses. They're planning on taking out the
statistics courses from our degree requirement, so our brains won't
be cluttered with such 'useless' information. Who uses stats
anyways? So this triggers a memory from the course notes from my
first year computer science class, in the "why do we have to take
this" section... Let's read, shall we?
-> A B.Math degree implies some exposure to all subjects studied
within the Math faculty.
-> Having a strong first and second year core allows you to defer
choosing a major, thus keeping your options open.
-> You came to Waterloo in part because of its reputation. That
reputation may rest in part on having a core of breadth
courses.
And those are just the first three reasons. So by the time we've
graduated we've been caught, dragged into the lab, pushed, poked,
prodded, and then finally we graduate and we get tagged, and then
we're released back into our habitat. Now all we have to do is
avoid the predators, and if we're really lucky one of us will be in
the statistically insignificant part of the population that finds
true, everlasting happiness with their first job.
Maybe all we need are for the people that design and control
the system, make and change the rules of the game, et cetera, to
get out of their big cushy chairs and to step out of their climate
controlled offices, and into the real world to see how it works and
what the serfs are thinking about before they rush off to try to
decide the fate of the next generation before the coffee break.
(Maybe you're right Mike, I am just a little bitter.)
Look What I Found
=================
Actually I didn't find it, someone asked my to attach this to
my web page, and since it was a pretty interesting idea I am going
to. You can get to it from my web page. The address is listed
below. Just keep on reading for another page or so, and you'll
find it eventually.
This is what their press release had to say...
"LX is the story of four people who, despite coming from
different backgrounds, find their paths crossing during
the course of a day. Each character's view of events is
in the form of a separate web page. The reader is able,
therefore, to retrieve the characters they are interested
in and read their story off line."
Which I didn't really understand until I looked at the page
and started to read the story. It has an interesting setup. I
read the story for one of the main characters, and sometimes along
the way, you'll see a link marker somewhere. When you click on it,
it takes you to either another character, or to a dream sequence /
memory type of thing. It took a moment to get used to, but it's
actually a really interesting way to write a book. Plus, it's not
all gimmick either. The story is fairly well written.
LX is brought to you courtesy of Steinkrug Publications. And
if you want more information, you can either go there and check it
out yourself, or you can send email to them at this address:
flames@flames.cityscape.co.uk.
Observations Of A Coastal Wanderer
==================================
I got this in my mailbox this morning (release day!).
There's not really that much to say. It's a four page
observation, which turned out to be exactly what I needed
on a bleak Monday morning. So here it is. The entire
piece is around four pages, I'm just going to reprint the
first three paragraphs. If you want the entire text, you
can go to my web page, or send an email request to the
author.
by: J. G. Fabiano <marine@star.net>
The many beaches along the coasts of New Hampshire and Maine
have a beautiful distinction about them. Most of them have the
ocean approach adjoining roadways with few small walls or buildings
to obstruct the view of anyone who has the opportunity to walk or
drive along their edges. These beaches have been protected by town
fathers from being over developed by those who see opportunity for
the few instead of beauty to be enjoyed by the many.
Long Sands Beach in York, Maine, is one of those beaches. In
between Route 1A and the beach is a walk. It is elevated which
allows the walker to see yet not be seen. Living on the beach for
the past nineteen years has taught me that the beauty of the coast
does not only come from the physical surroundings. It also
emanates from the visitors who walk along the long white sands of
the beach. Also having an intense imagination I make up stories
about the people I see.
Starting from where the beach begins at the point where Nubble
Road meets the ocean, there is little beach at any tide. In fact,
there is no beach at all. The people simply lean over the large
rocks which separates the road from the water. Young and old stare
into the pulsating ocean and lose themselves in the heartbeat
precision of the never ending waves. This is where the expert
observer notices what life's meaning should be. I have watched
people find, live through, lose, and then finally search for
memories that make and sometimes break their lives. I have
observed people meet in large groups. Their conversations filled
with laughter, youth, and of course the innocence that we all begin
our lives with. These groups eventually break into small separate
clusters to be reduced to pairs attracted to each other by the
possibility of creating their own memories.
As Earlier Promised...
======================
I found out this week that Cultural Debris is now on the web.
When I wrote that first review/plug for it way back when, I told
you that I'd see if I could find out where you could get back
issues. Well you can get them there.
For new issues, the easiest thing would probably be to just
get an email subscription, but if you go to the web page, you get
to see a picture of Dahven in a leather cat-suit. Some decisions
are just too tough to make.
You can get there from my page.
Blues For The Red Sun
=====================
"Once you return to the belly of the beast,
You're never quite the same." [Kyuss]
For the record, I know absolutely nothing about Kyuss.
Like Paul says, I was *influenced*. -Sanjay
by: Paul Sheen <pdsheen@uwaterloo.ca>
Are you sick of looking for meaning in everything, especially
the music you listen to? Are you a confused Dead-Head eating Ben
and Jerry's ice cream and looking for someone new and exciting to
follow now that Jerry is gone? Do you like to listen to music and
get a warm and fuzzy feeling deep down? Do you yearn for a sonic
assault beyond comparison that will energize you to no end? Well
if you do, I have the answer and I will give it to you in the form
of a question:
Who *is* KYUSS?
That seems to be a good question to ask these days.. Nobody
seems to have heard of this band, which deserves far more credit
than they have earned. Four guys from California got together to
start a band with a trademark *heavy* bass sound. The group has
evolved with a few member changes and is composed of John Garcia,
Josh Homme, Scott Reeder, and Alfredo Hernandez. With four
full-length LPs, KYUSS has run the gamut from slow loud grooves to
intense fast jams. But these guys can't be classified as heavy
metal, nor blues, nor even rock and roll.. They are a combination
of many genres, a venerable melting pot of styles. On July 11th
1995, they released their fourth opus "...And the Circus Leaves
Town" joining "Sky Valley," "Blues for the Red Sun," and "Wretch"..
The first three are of excellent quality, produced by Chris Goss of
Masters of Reality Fame.
These guys need some support so I'm using my influence on the
editor of this fine journal to help spread the gospel. If you are
interested in finding out more about Kyuss, go to their homepage
at:
http://reality.sgi.com/employees/dbg/stuff/txt/music/kyuss/
You can even get sound bites from their current albums and try
before you buy! Word of caution: Kyuss is not for the faint of
heart.
Disclaimer: This blatant plug for Kyuss is by a fervent fan
that is in no way affiliated with Kyuss or their record label
Electra. Please support amazing talent and buy a Kyuss album
today.
Story Time
==========
"We cannot go ahead without leaving something behind."
[Lemuel K. Washburn]
I remember hearing a story on the radio a few years ago. The
story went something like this... It involved a guy that was
walking somewhere through a field. And he was carrying a huge
suitcases with him, which were filled with pieces of his past.
Finally the weight became too much, so he, opened up the case, and
pulled out one of the memories, then something happened. I think
his destination became clearer, maybe a little closer, anyways, the
gist is that it became easier to keep on going, and to finish the
journey. So he keeps on unloading things, until the case is empty,
and he throws it away, and then walks of to la la land, where
everything is wonderful. It's just a beautiful story, and I'm
sorry that I don't remember it as well as I would like to. If you
know the story though, I would love to read/hear it again, so if
you could send me a copy (if you have one), or just the name of the
tape/CD that it's on, I would really appreciate it. Thanks.
Thanks for sticking it out with me, it's meant a lot. Talk to
you in a month.
Back to Basics
==============
"The planet's survival has become so uncertain that any
effort, any thought that presupposes an assured future
amounts to a mad gamble." [Elias Canetti]
I never thought that going back to where we began this journey
would feel so strange. It's only been a couple of issues since I
ditched the theme idea. Of course, I never really dropped the
themes completely... My issues were based on what I was thinking
when I wrote them, and since I actually do most of my writing in
the first week after putting out the last issue, and the week
before the next one goes out, there were obviously going to be
patterns. Right?
Well, since the August issue dealt mostly with the past, and
this one kinda stuck with the present, I thought that wouldn't it
be all neat and cutesy to have the next one be about the future?
So this is your mission, should you choose to accept it...
yadda yadda yadda... I want to know what you think the future will
be like. Gimme a sentence, a paragraph, or even a page. You can
go to grand scale, like giving me a complete picture of what kind
of technology we'll have if you want. Of course, and you're going
to have to trust me on this one, I think you'll actually enjoy this
more if you pick a smaller detail. I could give you an example of
that, but try thinking on a smaller scale, pick a detail of
society, and play with that. If you think that everyone will be
walking around with shaved heads because the hole in the ozone
layer burnt off all our hair follicles, then tell me. That's kind
of what I'm looking for.
I'm curious to see what everyone thinks about this one. If
you're still not too sure about what I'm talking about here,
remember how I said baseball would pretty much be dead in about 15
years? Gimme something like that.
Stuff No One Really Reads, But It's Here Anyways...
===================================================
Well if you have this then you probably know how you got it,
but in case this was passed on to you, then I'll just let you know
where you can find it.
ftp: ftp.etext.org: /pub/Zines/WhyMe/
gopher: gopher.etext.org (follow the prompts)
web: http://www.interlog.com/~vash/ (I've included a bunch of
links to this page too, so it might be worth it just to
poke around for a bit, and of course, the quote list is
here too)
mail: if you want a copy sent by mail then just send a request
to me at the eternity address. If you ask for a copy
I'll send one to you.
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
this 'zine, and you can even mention how you found
out about it. That's not asking too much is it?
As always, if you have questions, comments, statements,
observations, rants, or vents, feel free to let me know. There's
always room for me to improve, and there's always room for an extra
page.
Disclaimer
==========
I take full responsibility of the overall content here. There
might be other contributors (and what they say is their own
intellectual property), but what goes into this is my choice.
Truth is subjective (if you believe something then to you it is
fact, and if you don't then it is fiction, simple enough?) so I
won't make any claims about honesty... believe what you want. If
you're going to quote something from here just make sure that you
cite whoever wrote it. If it doesn't say who wrote it, then it's
probably me. Plus, I'd appreciate it if you told me too.
Still asking: If you know anything about ISSN numbers, like
where I can get one, or what I they're for, or even if I need one,
could you please let me know... Everyone else seems to have one,
and I want one too. Thanks.
Sanjay Singh (8/27/95)
