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Capital of Nasty Vol. 02 Issue 39
Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine
Volume II, Issue 39, Year AD MCMXCVII
Monday, October 27th, 1997
ISSN 1482-0471
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If architects made buildings the same way programmers made programs,
the first woodpecker to come to a city would destroy civilization.
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"You never call me!"
"You want me to call you after you called me already 8 times today?"
"Well, yeah, I'm a woman. I need constant reassurance, you know?"
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1. Editorial
2. Failing relationships
3. Working in an office: a survival guide (kinda)
4. why icq is the devil
5. ten things to do with half a wheel-trim
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This week's Golden Testicle award:
The Bambi Killers page
http://www.azstarnet.com/~rgrogan/bambi.htm
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1. Editorial
by Leandro
This issue of CoN received a major torpedo hit on the portside
(whatever part of the ship that is). IMPROV had sent me two articles
to use for the next two issues, and unfortunately, due to some
bizarre error along the transfer, each paragraph was missing the
end. Since he had sent them to me a few hours before the
distribution of this week's issue, I went looking for his number. I
found my first girlfriend's phone number, which of course I thought
was long lost, but no luck in finding his. I wrote him a desperate
e-mail hoping that he would read it and so the minutes are ticking
by before midnight.
Every Monday, a script written by Gard, the Editor of
Spontaneously Combusted Literature <http://www.scriba.org/slc> and
administrator of the Scriba Org server, sends me a report of how
many hits CoN's webpages have received and from where some of the
hits came from. To my surprise many them look like this:
http://www.search.com/Infoseek/1,135,89,0200.html?QUERY=tight+asses&
COLL=WW
http://guide-
p.infoseek.com/Titles?qt=%22TIGHT+ASSES%22&col=WW&sv=A2&pg=q&what=we
b&fmt=&q=&x=25&y=5
Okay. So a couple of them were looking for tight asses. I can
understand that, since if you search for Capital of Nasty this is
what the Query will report back:
Offensive Reading for the Masses
Achtung! - ATTENTION If you are in search of SMUT, hooters, legs,
lips, tight asses, noses, fingers, body hair (male or female) or the
Toronto Blizzards Soccer Club, then you have come to ...
100% http://www.capnasty.org (Size 7.6K)
This one left me even more surprised. I mean, come'on "How to jack
off"?
http://www.infoseek.com/Titles?qt=tight+ass&oq=how+to+jack+off&sv=IS
&lk=noframes&nh=10&col=New+Search
And this one?
http://w3.box.sk/cgi-
bin/marek/box/box?pwd=&prj=box&gfx=box&txt=Magaziny+spolocenske&key=
spomag&fil=*&lan=s
I checked it and I got this under Capital of Nasty:
"Capital of Nasty - magazin pre tych, ktori sa nechcu dat politicky
zorientovat!"
Can someone translate that for me?
In the last issue of CoN I had published the letters from freak-
woman. Remember her? She freaked in Issue 37 and then wrote that she
couldn't wait for the next issue to come out. She did not write back
but her friends did. Here is one of the letters, the most normal one
I could find:
From: "Koi Verchandt"
Subject: Friends of Bronwyn
We love Bronwyn.
Be nice to her or expect the revenge of the fluffy bunny hugs.
Sincerely not fooling around.
The Friends of Bronwyn
That message was followed by several virtual postcard with bunnies
hugging.
To make things worse I found myself caught in a terrible lack of
inspiration. I started sobbing with Morbus, the Editor of Devil Shat
<http://www.disobey.com>. For my lack of inspiration he suggested
something quite interesting:
As for inspiration, beat me. Make me feel like my zine is
insignificant. Write something about why Capital of Nasty is better
than Devil Shat, and make three points. Tack it to your wall. Send
it to me. I'll tack it to my wall. And then we'll have a helluva lot
of inspiration for different reasons. Always worked for me. <g>
Okay, so here are my three reasons why Capital of Nasty is better
than Devil Shat:
My e-mail works more often then yours does. Instead of not receiving
my message, I get parts of them.
Brownyn Mitchell. Do you have your own freak-woman with her little
freak-friends writing to you and sending you cuddly fluffy bunny
hugs? I think not.
Tight Asses and How to jerk off hits: I bet both of them you never
got such delights. Ha!
Anyway, this editorial is already too long, so I'll stop now. My
apologies to you all. I'll leave you with the latest edition of CoN
wishing you all a cuddly fluffy bunny hug week.
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2. Failing Relationships
by Rui Motta
Three years ago I nearly got married. Today I still wonder what got
me out of that relationship. It must have been a force from up
above. And I'm greatful it did.
Here's the deal:
Sometimes you try too hard to make people around you very happy.
It pleases you to see everybody cheerful, happy, smilling faces all
over, but you often end up depressed, with a feeling of emptyness
that drives you crazy. That happened to me. And I often wondered
what had I done to deserve that. You know, we often think about what
have we done to deserve something bad, whenever something is not
right. And we, most of the times, tend to overlook good things (like
pleasing everyone) and concentrate on bad things. That's it:
sometimes we do wrong trying to do right.
When I finally broke out of that relationship, I felt as if I had
won a fight against Mike Tyson when, a few rounds before, I had been
on the canvas. And that made me feel like Superman. Boy, that's as
good as it gets. I promised, I would never let myself down again.
Yes, I realized that I was the one to blame for being in that
stinking position, since no one but me wanted to do that. So, from
then onwards, I concentrated on being myself, letting others know
that I, as well as them, had feelings and that whatever I did to
please them I was not letting myself down. And that goes to every
and each one of you who can pick something up from this story.
I have now a great girlfriend but, from the beginning, I showed
her that I was the way I was and that, if we were to take eachothers
hand, we would have to take them knowing that they belonged to
someone we knew inside out. Do not try to hide nothing inside,
because it's only a matter of time it comes out... Show the othe
person how you really are. Do not be affraid of being rejected,
because if you get rejected, that was meant to be. On the other
hand, if you cling together, it's a "Out of this World" feeling.
You'll surely know what I'm talking about.
When we find someone who we think it's especial, we tend to do
everything within us to please them, often forgetting about
ourselves. Do not make this mistake. Think of you as well. Don't get
me wrong, but when we meet someone who deserves our innemost
attention, try, also, to please yourself.
That's the only way we can reach the highest point of hapinness in
a relationship. I follow what I think and... so far so good.
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3. Working in an office: a survival guide (kinda)
by Leandro
This article was originally meant as a strategy-guide in surviving
around the office. But then I realized that it's not a topic worth
an article on CoN and that I'm sure we all have good, well paying,
soul satisfying office jobs, right? The article that replaces this
one needs another name. I was thinking of "Vibrations through the
night", so here goes:
Vibrations through the night
by Leandro
I have the bad reputation of being a bad caller. People call me, I
don't call them back. One day I get a phone call from Bell, the
phone company which I am hooked up with. They ask me if I'd like to
try any of their services, the first month being free. Since I had
no answering machine, and I keep my line busy most of the time when
I am connected to the Internet or I'm simply not at home, I told the
guy to set me up for their CallAnswer service, basically a voicemail
that answers the phone when I don't pick it up. Or if I am on the
line it will take a message just like an ordinary answering machine.
When people called, I thought, they can leave a message and I would
call them back. Unfortunately I never checked the voicemail, leading
to a buildup of messages. Apparentely you cannot have more than 25
messages stored and those poor souls that dared to call me would
hear a "this answering machine has exceeded it's maximum amount of
allowed messages. Please call back at another time". This pissed off
quite a few people, especially when I would return their calls a
week later with "Hi! I just heard your message and..."
By e-mail I was still fairly reachable, so those that were
"online" would get in touch with me that way. That was until I
started to receive a lot of e-mails through my several accounts.
Then I started to receive a lot of mail because of Capital of Nasty.
E-mails accumulated until I had a good 60 or 70 in my inbox waiting
for a reply. A reply that by the time I actually wrote it, it was a
little too late. More people were getting pissed off.
On my 21st birthday, my friends gave me a little box as a present.
I opened it up and found inside a pager. An innocent pager, of a
dark cranberry colour and cute little buttons that I could push. As
I was playing with it, I heard Betty make comments about "unanswered
e-mails" and "full voicemails" but I pretended not to hear. The
message was clear however, and so for the first few months I
actually carried the pager around and when it beeped, I would call
people back. Then of course the toy lost its fascination, and once
in a while I would forget the pager in my room, only to find it
vibrating on the floor.
The other day I was leaving for work in a rush and left the little
guy on top of one of my metal cabinets. As usual I had set the pager
on vibrate, so that it doesn't disturb anyone when it goes off in
the middle of the night. When I came back, four hours later, the
pager was gone. I look for it in my bag, on my other pair of pants,
I even ask my sister thinking she might've took it to play with it,
as she often does. Nobody has seen it, nobody knows where it is and
my searches prove to be unsuccessful.
The noise in the house is slowly dyeing down and my ear catches a
sound, similar to the drone of a bee. Not even a second, then it's
gone. A minute later I hear it again. And 60 seconds after that
again. I finally figure out it's the pager. Someone must've paged
me, and the pager probably fell off the cabinet due to the
vibrations. "Good," I think, "it's in here somewhere. I'll find it
tomorrow".
It got quieter in the house. The vibration got louder. Wood, for
those that don't know, has the effect of increasing the volume of
any sound. I have a wooden floor, the pager was taking full
advantage of it every 60 seconds, in it's 1 and a half second dance.
Sleeping became impossible. I found myself turning all the lights
on, and kneeling down on the floor trying to determine from where
exactly the sound was coming from. One and a half second of
vibration must not be enough for the human ear to catch the correct
location of a small object vibrating on the floor. I was so sure at
one time that I knew where it was, that I took everything sitting
under the last shelf of the library out. The sound felt like it was
coming now from the left, now from the right. And I had to wait 60
precious frustrating torturing seconds for the next little buzz.
Eventually I found the pager. It had travelled 16 feet from it's
original location. It fell from the cabinet, went under the library,
and found a final resting place against the wall under the chair. It
was now 4 o'clock in the morning, and I had to be up in less than
four hours. I turned the pager off, and it felt as if I had just put
my head down on the pillow, since the alarm went off.
I guess I have learned my lesson, and this is a warning to you
all. If you don't call people, start doing it now before they give
you a pager as a birthday gift. If you have a room "organized" like
mine, you are going to spend many hours finding the little fucker,
and you will realize for the first time in your life how long 60
seconds can be.
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4. why icq is the devil
by morbus
I like new technology and new ideas. I like to be connected to
people, not white screens with words on them. I like saying people's
names so much that it makes them uncomfortable. I like to be able to
think that I am not a computer screen, and rather just someone
looking into a big TV. That's part of the reason we do Devil Shat:
to be able to communicate our ideas and opinions to a bunch of other
people, and to get their responses back.
As you might know, I test out a lot of new software. I was one
of the first people to get the AOL Instant Messenger Software (of
which my name, DevilShat, was recently revealed). And, I am now the
proud tester of ICQ for the 68k Macintosh. How I got the software,
and why I did is not the question, answer, or solution. But rather:
THE QUESTION: Why did you stay away from ICQ?
THE ANSWER: ICQ is the Devil.
THE SOLUTION: Explain why ICQ is the Devil, and then wholeheartedly
embrace the technology.
Okay... you see, a long time ago, I read the Bible. It wasn't
something I was forced to do, it was something I wanted to do. I
never understood why people criticize anything without getting
enough information about it. One of the things that I remember is
that when Satan came to kick some ass, everyone was going to receive
a mark on their forehead or their right hand, and without that mark,
we would not be able to buy or sell. And the mark would be the name
of the beast, and the name of the beast is the number six hundred
sixty six.
Yada, yada, yada. For the longest time, I sat back in my great
philosopher's chair, stroked my invisible goatee, and sucked on my
bubble pipe and said that we were already in the Armageddon, simply
because the barcode is a perfect representation of the mark. From
there, I moved onto the idea of the "e-card", an electronic id that
would hold all your money and all your transactions... replacing
wealth with "credits".
But those aren't the true marks, merely harbingers. I would
hesitate to say (but do I must) that ICQ is the mark of the beast.
ICQ, one of the most prolific Internet paging services, has
finally jumped the platform from PC to Mac, and as such, has now
accomplished almost complete integration with the computer world.
The major difference between ICQ and most other online services
(except Compuserve) is that you are represented by numbers. You are
not a face, nor a name, but rather something evilly called a UIN.
Your UIN is who you are... your name and info are second-best.
For example, my UIN is 2927491. Isn't that peaceful? Were I
playing Seven Card, I would have a pretty good starting hand. But in
ICQ, I am just one of millions. It seems innocent at first, but when
I went to their website to get more information, I realized that it
is a lot more than innocence. Your number can optionally be added to
hundreds of different groups of other numbers, all sharing something
in common. You like trading lighters at Verve Pipe concerts? There
is a group for you.
And they proclaim wonderful availability. Why, you can even put
your ICQ number on a business card, and people can contact you
whenever you're online! Yet another vice of the devil: the loss of
freedom. Much like a cellular phone on a vacation, anyone can
intrude on you at any time. And like we are so prone to do, we can't
just let a phone ring, or a pager vibrate... we have to do something
about it. Otherwise, why do we bother paying for the service?
So, "Morbus," you ask, "if ICQ is so damn evil, why should we
embrace it?" Ahk, I dunno. A couple of disjointed reasons. One:
hell, everybody's doin it. Two: It transform the harshness of the
internet into a more friendly, online service environment. One of
the nice things I remember about AOL was the fact that when people I
knew came online, I could have a nice chat with them. Three: Nice
implementation. In the PC version, there is support for a number of
different games or "extras" that allow you to extend it into much
more than just a pager program.
Of course, as with any advice, there is always an equal number of
vices. Everybody's doin it. Yeah, that's good, but the first day I
used it, the network shut down for fifteen minutes at a time.
Perhaps a mirror of an AOL denial of service. And sure, it makes the
mean ol' internet user friendly, but it also intrudes into your
work, and perhaps your "veg" time. And, yes, it may be pretty, and
have a whole bunch of neat little add-ons, but those are only a few
of the tricks to lull us into a false sense of security. Already on
discussion groups do I see threads consisting of "intercepting ICQ
messages" and so forth. It won't be long before the media starts
using credit card scare tactics.
Should we embrace the devil? We have before.
This article appeared courtesy of Disobey, and appeared originally
in Devil Shat, a biweekly zine that is better than Capital of Nasty
because they keep borrowing articles from it to use in this zine.
Subscriptions can be sent to morbus@disobey.com. Or, you can read
them all at the website: http://www.disobey.com
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5. ten things to do with half a wheel-trim
by The alarmingly uneventful Adventures of Rik
A fancy dress hat. A delightful tray for serving light refreshment
at parties. A crap frisbee. A bizarre torture device for dwarves. A
snow-shoe. A strange temple for insects. A device that no home can
be without for gullible fools. A stupidly small shield for medievil
questing knights. A handy bird table for the garden of accountants
from Slough. .ooo, erm,hmmm,can anyone else think of a number 10?
does anyone care?
Thought not...
BIG FIGHT OF THE FORTNIGHT
Yup, you read correctly
this fortnights competitors are
Leonard the shrimp
vs
George the manhole cover
Who do YOU think will win?
Write an e-mail to me marked "Vote for the fight" so that I can
delete them immediately.
Remember when making your choice, the shrimp, though vicious in
packs doesnt really have the brute strength to penetrate the thick
metal of the manhole cover. But if course the manhole cover doesnt
actually move much.
Send your comments to: Rik <Rich.h@btinternet.com> or visit
http://www.btinternet.com/~weird.stuff1/Rik1.htm.
[Rik informs me that he will disappear from the scene for a while
since he decided to join a religious monk group in Nepal to find
himself and escape the tyranny and evilness of the 'Net - Ed.]
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(1) Everything depends.
(2) Nothing is always.
(3) Everything is sometimes.
