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Deviate Issue 02
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{--- --+@ # #$ !$( -- - deviate e'zine -- issue two : : e : ---}
. . . .. ....: : :
.
deviate e'zine -- issue: 1.02 -- released 07/29/96 ù
deviate magazine is a publication of surreality enterprises. all
matter contained within is the property of surreality, and may not be
duplicated without the expressed, written consent of both the author and
surreality enterprises. deviate may be distributed freely, in its
entire original state, provided no fee is charged for its retrieval.
^(---!- table of contents -!---)^
+( deviate ascii header, by mass murderer
+( editorial: my metaphor for reality, by mindcrime
+( digital footsteps, by mindcrime
+( alfheim encounters of the underground vol.one, by ilsundal
+( liverwurst in my soul, by belial
+( subatomic super pizza accelerator, by mindcrime and cerkit !
+( the stapler revisited, by belial
+( floating alone, by mindcrime $
+( back page: detached and subdivided, by mindcrime #
+( deviate ascii footer, by kaleidas ! & @%
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
*** topic on #vietown: VieTnAm KnOwS HoW to PaRtY!!!
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
+- - ,! %%-+( )+-%% !, - -+
(-- + -- )(@# editorial: my metaphor for reality, by mindcrime #@)( -- + --)
+- - '! %%-+( )+-%% !' - -+
my life is simple. i breath, eat, and sleep, occasionally finding it
adventageous to do some other stuff to keep my mind occupied. perhaps that
is why i write this 'zine; it gives me something to do. who knows? one thing
i know is that i don't have angst. it's unfortunate, really, because it
often leaves me at a loss for words when writing this thing. i don't have
enough problems in life to warrant any angst. you know what? now that i
think about it, i believe i have negative-angst. i have the ability to
squelch all angst with my holy negative-angst. it's kinda like that whole
matter/anti-matter thing.
i finally realized the other day what the core of my personality is.
somehow, i manage to not care about anything while at the same time caring
about everything. wacky, isn't it? but it is indeed true. i suppose it's
one of those little things that makes me, well, me. it contributes to my
whole metaphor for reality. everyone has one of those, it's what makes
individual perception so valuable. the way you see things is inevitably
going to be entirely different from those around you. unfortunatly, there
will always be those who believe in only one metaphor. they are the close-
minded ones; the people who will stop at nothing to make you see their way.
but perhaps it is almost hypocritical of me to scorn these people, for i
have found myself trying to make others see my way on several occasions.
it's human nature, after all. everyone wishes the world saw things through
their own rose colored glasses. but just think how bored we would get. do
you really want a world full of clones? my metaphor is different than yours,
and i happen to like it that way.
i think what i'm trying to say is "get the hell out of my treehouse."
word of advice: never use brake cleaner to clean out your bearings. did
you know it eats grease? bearings are packed in grease. it's what makes
them spin so nicely. unfortunatly, i learned this the hard way and now my
rollerblades barely move. pity.
so anyway.
this is deviate issue two. it's a little wackier than issue one, and
i'm pretty sure that's a good thing. in the spirit of being different, we
like each issue to deviate a bit from it's former. this one is a little more
humor oriented, a little less serious. hell, even the ascii is a bit crazier
and less conservative. i guess i just go with the mood i'm in. so follow my
mood for a little while. open your mind for me and the other writers, and
take in a bit of a tale. most of all, don't forget to stray off the path
a bit in your neverending quest to make it through life.
everyone can use a little deviation.
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
"he's got to make his own mistakes and learn to mend the mess he makes.
he's old enough to know what's right but young enough not to choose it.
he's noble enough to win the world, but weak enough to lose it - he's
a new world man..." - neil peart, rush
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
+- - ,! %%-+( )+-%% !, - -+
(-- + -- )(@# digital footsteps, by mindcrime #@)( -- + --)
+- - '! %%-+( )+-%% !' - -+
branches; left and right, above and below, screaming past him while
swaying in the brisk breeze of the cold winter night. nearly invisable, one
tears through his flesh as he races through the woods. a thin line of
crimson fluid tickles down his face, leaving a faint trail on the damp grass
below. twenty yards behind, the dark shadows are quickly gaining, guided by
the weak light straining to emenate from their failing flashlights. slipping
on the wet ground, the fugitive stops to regain the floppy that jumped out
of his pocket. sweeping off the dew with his hand, he shoves the disk back
into his jacket and tears off into the darkness. only five yards behind, the
well-dressed shadows stop their chase at the mercy of their dead flashlights.
three miles from the pay phone where this started, the runner ducks into an
abandoned water duct, straining his lungs with every breath.
the moon light was scarce here, rarely breaking through the thick cover
of the trees to illuminate the space below. it was even darker inside the
pipe, the only light barely visable at the opposite end. he knew he couldn't
stay here long, the deadline was only five minutes away and there was no
chance of his cell modem connecting through the thick concrete walls of the
duct. lungs still straining, he gets up, sloshing through the shallow water
as he makes his way toward the light.
inner city chicago, 3:24am. the accoustics in the hotel room emphasize
the squeak of the cheap, rusted bed. the stains and mysterious spots on the
ceiling captivate his attention in spite of the cheap entertainment. as he
makes a motion with his hand, she recognizes the signal and gets up. putting
on her red plastic one-piece, he hands her a twenty in one hand as she zips
up with the other. without an exchange of words, she's out the door, ready
to turn another trick before calling it a night. he sits in the dark room,
staring and waiting nervously for something to happen; anything.
brian was one of those kids, always teatering on the edge of good and
evil. his conscience was whole, but he always seemed to get himself into
these situations. this time he was smart, decided to rely on someone else
instead of sticking his hands directly into the shit. he was beginning to
think that was a bad move. what was it his father always told him? "if you
want a job done right, you've got to do it yourself."
"well, shit on me."
he always thought his father was full of shit. the old fool drank
himself to death years ago. mother died when brian was only 4; he's always
blaming his problems on that, like some sort of demented psychiatrist. now
he was wishing that he had listened to the advice the old fool had given
him. the ticks on the clock were passing so slowly now; time knew he was
waiting for something. he never was a very patient man.
the ring of the phone sounded loud in his ears, popping his eyes open
from their boredom induced coma. lifting the heavy receiver from the base
of the ancient phone, he heard the heavy gasps from the caller.
"brian, man, you there?"
"what the fuck did i tell you about using my real name?"
"sorry man, listen, i've got the shit."
"then fucking transfer it, what the hell are you calling me for?"
"listen, man, the feds are all over my ass. i've gotta get outta here."
"fucking shit, man, can't you do anything right? where are you? the
deadline was ten fucking minutes ago."
"i'm behind some little cabin or something, they chased me through the
woods. hold on... shit, they're coming."
"listen, i don't give a shit what you have to do, just make the
transfer and make it quick."
<click>
this deal was a big one, and he was messing with the wrong people. he
didn't show it, but the fear running through his brain was huge. he had put
his fate in the hands of another.
"never trust another person, never trust another person," the mantra
rolled through his aching head.
he learned his lesson this time. if he lived through this one he was
going to change himself. there would be no looking back. why the HELL did he
have to go and put his trust in someone else.
<ring>
"yeah."
"dude, i made the transfer, the job is done."
"thank god."
"you sound worried, man, i told you you could trust me."
trust me... trust me... trust me... the sentance trailed off and echoed
in his brain.
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
this program requires microsoft windows.
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
+- - ,! %%-+( )+-%% !, - -+
(-- + -- )(@# alfheim encounters of the underground vol. one #@)( -- + --)
+- - '! %%-+( by ilsundal )+-%% !' - -+
like the forests of alfheim always are, it was a beautiful mist filled
day at the river; the sparrows were singing, the woodnymphs were frolicing,
and the water sprites were playing their kelp banded harps.
as i was merrily on my way to the north path, i was rather disturbed. the
toadstool paths were getting larger by the mile, and air seemed to become a
lot crisper. to my suprise, a school of flame faeries charged through the
air towards me, yelling "gimme k0dez!@~" .. 2600 MHz tones were flying at
me from all angles, and i was now being brutaly beaten with an 'elf box' ..
it was obvious they were asking for something i could not provide, and i
began to panic; moments later, i was embraced with a brilliant green aura,
and my body rested lifeless against the moss covered floor.
the flame faeries then landed on my stomach, and formed a mighty circle.
one of them began to move forward, and started to speak. "i am known as
mistnick, you have entered our domain, and are prompted to login," mumbled
the leader faery. "login!@~," the faery yelled again, so i had no choice
but to play along; a vortex begin to form, and a wooden object emerged which
appeared to have a view screen, and a touch-type keyboard. a narrow array of
light binded my own, and the flame faery's forehead, and i was bombarded
with images.
"i am dr. k0dez, i am dr. k0dez, i am dr. k0dez," flooded though my mind,
and now there was no turning back. my fingers moved like they never moved
before, and _i_ was in control. i had the power to conquer this 'ivynet'
network, and the flame faeries now had the power which they were seeking,
_dr. k0dez_ .. i created beige boxes, blue boxes, gold boxes, and others at
will by converting the natural energies around me into a vortex of
fluxuating madness.
i knew my mission, i was to take control of shroomhouse.gov, so i quickly
followed the concentrated patches of toadstools, until i finally got into
the shroomhouse shell. "i am in!@~," i shouted, and the flame faeries
began to dance with glee around the mushroom rings. everything seemed tight
and secure, the main password was heavily encrypted. "this feeble roadblock
will not stop me, dr. k0dez!@~," i shouted to the heavens. mistnick then
handed me the mother of all hacking utilities, the shroom of emmanual. i
quickly ingested the mushroom, and was quickly altered into a changed state
of mind, I WUZ TRiPPiN' bALLz!@# colors of fushia, green, reds a various
yellows were now a part of my reality, and were morphing into various
fractal positions.
i then quickly mentally transformed the mathmatical fractal equations to
binary, and was well on my way to decrypting the main password file.
everything seemed to flow, mistnick was prancing merrily around the moss
covered grounds. colors were everywhere, everybody was in a state of
happiness, and the main password file was decrypted!@~ now the phun begins.
all the flame faeries cackled with evil grins on their faces, and i began to
login the root account. i first began with a little exploring, here are the
logs to this most interesting shell: :)
root:/$ ls
bark mail alfheim.irc elftits.gif
faerysex.jpg
root:/$ cd bark
root:/bark/$ ls
branch
root:/bark/$ cd branch
root:/bark/branch/$ ls
limb
(this is getting ridiculous!@# hah hah, i'll take a guess attempt)
root:/bark/branch/limb/$ cd twig/leaf
(wow, it worked, they are such comedians, hah, they have the anatomy of
a tree in a string of directories, from root all the way to the leaves!
hahaha!@# that was pretty sneaky of them.)
root:/bark/branch/limb/twig/leaf/$ ls
from here, i generally wipe the system. mistnick and i have succussfully
aquired root on shroomhouse.gov!@~# a great celebration was to take place,
all the elite of the elite attended; from the phreaking guild of druids, all
the way to the clan of anarchist cenutaurs. this was a day to celebrate.
soon we would have root on all the boxes in alfheim forest!~@ we soon fell
asleep around a great camp phire, and the tree spirits humbly played sweet
melodies using red box tones. this was a new beginning. ...
till next time ... muhahaha!@~
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
+- - ,! %%-+( )+-%% !, - -+
(-- + -- )(@# liverwurst in the soul, by belial #@)( -- + --)
+- - '! %%-+( )+-%% !' - -+
i got liverwurst in my
soul. that's right, i'm a
soul man! jive, bro', i
taste good on bread
with mustard. oh yeah,
baby, soul. i got soul --
a liverwurst soul.
+- - ,! %%-+( )+-%% !, - -+
(-- + -- )(@# sub-atomic super pizza accelerator #@)( -- + --)
+- - '! %%-+( by mindcrime and cerkit )+-%% !' - -+
:::THE DEV-E-8-1000; SUBATOMIC SUPER PIZZA ACCELERATOR:::
ÚÄÄÄ¿
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÂÄÙ ³
4cc3l3r4t0r -> |\_______ pizza here ³ _ï_____ï___
_____ |""""""""| | ³ /|©ÄÄ----Ä-ª||
|d | |xlR8ter | \|/ ³ | |³dev-e-8 ³||
|v |OOOOOOO|_________\ ³ | |ª________©||
|8 | i/o lines | | |\________/|. ³ |/|__________||
|1000 |OOOOOOOOOOO|" | |----------||cÂÄÄÙ |/ ......... \.
"""""" : : """"""" |||||||||| |cÙ /|\ |\_''''''''''_/||
/|\ : `.....................dddddb. + | | | |""""""""""| ||
| `........................bbbd" |_| | |_| |_||
| /|\ /|\ | /|\
ph0od modulat0r, | | elite null m0dem |
dem0dulator | | |
transfer cord | |
three b's & c0mputer 0n irc.
one d.
+-- - the hardware installation - --+
okay, so you just got home and you've lugged the boxes into your computer
room, anxious to get your first electronicly transfered pizza, and you're
wondering how to install the thing, right? well, don't fret, because the
dev-e-8-1000 is a snap to install! the improved model 1000 now supports the
plug-n-play standard for quick and easy installation! not only this, but it
also comes with all parts and accessories you need to hook it up! no
unwieldy tools required! simple set it down on your floor and plug it in!
you're saying to yourself "this can't be!" BUT IT IS! open up the nifty
biodegradable package and pull out the unit, being careful not to bend any
hoses or knock off any knobs. (that sentence was way too metaphorical.) set
it down in a decently ventilated area. now you need to hook it up to your
computer. you'll need an empty serial port, as well as an unused com port.
we recommend com4, because no one EVER uses com4!
if all went well, you should now have a fully functional dev-e-8-1000
pizza accelerator! welcome to the big time, man! flip on your computer and
get your appetite ready.
+-- - the software installation - --+
slip in the cd-rom that accompanied your dev-e-8-1000 and switch to that
drive. at the prompt, grit your teeth and type in "pHOOD". this program is
case sensitive, so be sure to write it just like that. this will install
the necessary files onto your hard drive and get you all setup. the program
should autodetect your dev-e-8-1000, so there is no need for you to type
a thing. (if the program cannot find the hardware, consult a physician.)
now you're all set to transfer your first pizza. reboot your computer to
make sure the new changes take effect, slide a pizza onto the buffer tray,
and give it the good 'ole "pHOOD" command.
wanna know how it all works? read on as cerkit explains!
+-- - the rundown - --+
once the necessary installation is complete you'll take your slab
of pizza and place it on the buffer. there it will be encoded into binary.
in a buffer, as binary data, it is modulated into a file. as a file it can
be transported freely throughout the network, edited, or deleted. the file
.piz is normally, depending on the pizza size (small, medium, large, with
sausage or without) about 200k. of course there are compression utilities
and they will be discussed later. once you're very sure that you're ready,
go for it, read on.
+-- - the actual processing - --+
the acceleration unit takes this encoded pizza information, in binary
form, and sends it through it's i/o cables and into the phood modulating
unit where it is modulated into a file. the particles of pizza, now within a
file, are sent through the main transfer cable and into the elite null modem
connectors and into a memory buffer, called SMASH. oops, i mean RAM. saved
within the buffer is an actual pie of pizza. from your buffer it becomes an
existing file on your hardrive, normally a .piz file. this file can be
uploaded to a shell account and then dcc'd. (it's fun to trade them for MAD
warez!) the good people at pkware inc. have come up with a rather worth-
while program for .piz compression. pkpizzip is a rather useful utility for
storing untransfered pizza, as you may never know when you'll need an
already prepared pie. the accelerator also has the ability to reverse the
process. perchance someone sends you a .piz. you run your normal laplink
software and copy the file to the drive which is recognized as the drive for
the deviate pizza acceleration unit.(see ms-dos manual for fdisk information
or call 1-888-DEV-IATE) now once you've moved the received .piz, the
accelerator should slow down the electrons of the pizza. slowed down, the
electrons form a binary signature only the dev-e-8-1000 would understand. it
sends this information to the modulation/demodulation unit where the binary
is transfered from buffer binary to actual particle make-up strands. the
modulator then creates the neccesary matter from the energy it collected in
the process of slowing pizza atoms down. then appearing on your pizza input
buffer will be said pie.
Contact information for getting your copy of PkPizZip:
PKWARE, inc.
9025 N. Deerwood Drive.
Brown Deer, WI 53223
Contact information for getting your Dev-E-8-1000(tm):
Surreality Enterprises.
P.O. Box 31337
Rumson, NJ 02600
now we'll let mindcrime tell you a bit about the accelerator unit.
+-- - the subatomic super pizza accelerator, a concept all its own - --+
so you want to know how the actual pizza acceleration works, don't you?
well, look no further, because for the first time anywhere we present to
you the actual pizza acceleration process.
with a pizza on the buffer plate, you press the "sTAWT" button. this
starts the beautiful process in motion. the buffer plate vibrates at speeds
exceeding the speed of light. this accelerates the particles of the pizza
to the point where their molecular bonds breakdown. as the individual
particles release themselves from the bond of the pizza, the buffer scanner
executes a high-level scan on them. this determines the composure of the
molecule as well as its place in the completed pizza. the particle is then
released from the confines of the machine and is free to float about in
space. the information from the molecule is stored in the pattern buffer.
this process is repeated for each and every molecule in the pizza, at very
high speeds. all together it takes about 5 seconds. the pattern is then
converted into a file, as described above, and is free to be transfered and
manipulated.
now, you may be asking where the energy from all those broken bonds goes
to. well, this is the best part of the entire machine: it is completely
self-powering! the energy created by the destroying of molecular bonds is
captured in our patented dev-e-8-495^E energy harness and used to power
the machine. what isn't used is stored in the dev-e-8-496^F energy storage
facility for use in future pizza accelerations.
+-- - the end - --+
well, there you have it, folks! the dev-e-8-1000 subatomic super pizza
accelerator. contact surreality enterprises at the above address for
information and brouchures on the dev-e-8-1000! you can get your very own,
just as soon as the fda and fcc approve it!
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
+- - ,! %%-+( )+-%% !, - -+
(-- + -- )(@# the stapler revisited, by belial #@)( -- + --)
+- - '! %%-+( )+-%% !' - -+
i'm so sorry, mr.
stapler. i never
meant to hurt
you. don't you
know that i
love you? please
forgive me, dear
stapler. hey, you
wanna go out
and get a drink?
i'd like that.
lets get out of
here.
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
+- - ,! %%-+( )+-%% !, - -+
(-- + -- )(@# floating alone, mindcrime #@)( -- + --)
+- - '! %%-+( )+-%% !' - -+
there i am. alone in a room full of people. my eyes fixed on a single
point, static in a world of dynamic mischief. a couple converses by the
dripping water cooler, their words mixed into the never with those of past
participants in the art. i cannot hear their words, but i see their pain.
i can feel it: the pain of a thousand dead souls that lurks within the being
of all of us. she turns away, trying to deny it.
i can hear their footsteps, but see only the motion blur of passing legs.
they do not stop, but i feel the stare of their always naked eyes. why must
they all look at me when they pass? i always thought i was one of them, but
they are all blind. these souls look out from within them but they never
return the action. the divits in the staring pole are all i see now; how the
irony drips from the situation. their lives are full of holes.
they move throughout each day, pacing the hallowed halls of this
maddening sanatarium. reality doesn't exist in here and time ticks slowly,
counting the seconds away in that monotone voice that fades in and out of
existance. the clock no longer ticks forward for me; it counts backward
through the neverending pain of monotany. he chases on, trying to control
her.
something once made me stay here, put up with the punishment and watch
my life fade. those shackels are gone now, and i feel compelled to get up,
to look elsewhere, but i'm scared. we're all too damn scared.
i get up and slide across the floor. the door opens for me as if to
welcome the scorching light upon my pale and deprived body. it slams shut
and i never look back. never, never look back.
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
+- - ,! %%-+( )+-%% !, - -+
(-- + -- )(@# back page: detached and subdivided, by mindcrime #@)( -- + --)
+- - '! %%-+( )+-%% !' - -+
i don't know why i write. did you ever look back at a piece and think
"now that's really not how i feel at all." i do it all the time. i'll write
something and it won't reflect a single piece of my personality. it will
be a wholy independant thought that worked itself inside my brain, but was
really only passing through. i feel detached from my work, but i guess i
often hope it will hit someone else and they will say "yeah, i totally
understand." or maybe it won't. either way, i'm hoping it provides
entertainment, because that really is the reason i release this 'zine to
the general public: for your entertainment. i don't expect people to get
anything out of it, or stare at it like a picasso and ponder the meaning of
it's every brush stroke. i believe that entertainment should be the core
of any good existance. if life doesn't entertain you, then what reason is
there in entertaining it?
now, go on with your life as usual and entertain yourself some more. if
you find it necessary, drop me a line and let me know what you thought of
this issue. i love feedback, it gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. until
then, live on and don't let the man get you down.
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
contacting deviate:
email:
!- mike@exit109.com, mc@acid.org
ftp:
!- ftp.etext.org /pub/Zines/Deviate
www:
!- http://www.exit109.com/~mike/deviate
dial:
!- alderaan @ 908.224.8780
irc:
!- mindcrime
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
thanks go out to all those who contributed to this issue. special thanks go
to belial, edicius, soul seeker, grey hawk, dimes, and all those fools who
actually hang out with me. i own your sorry asses at air hockey.
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
"...the knowledge that they fear is a weapon to be used against them..."
- neil peart, rush -
{-- + -- )(@# - - +- -+ - - #@)( -- + --}
"$b pg
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`~~~ ~ ` `""""""` `""""""~`~"""""` "" `""""""" `"""""""` `""""""` ~ ~~~`
{--- --+@ # #$ !$( -- - - - - -- )$! $# # @+-- ---}
