Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
Fat Nipples Issue 4
This is my letter to the world, my subconscious. I know that
you are not real. You surprise me because that is what I
want. Every secret you hold from me is my own invention.
Now, I exercise futility by writing to my subconscious's pawns.
You are not safe any more. I am aware of your unreality and I
shall treat you accordingly. Now you are wondering what I am
talking about or laughing at me, but this is as I have created.
You do not exist to me. You are manipulations of my
universe. You hold such a fascination, but now I see through
you. You only hate me because I want you to. You only love
me because that's what I need. You're only my friend
because I created you as such. When I am no longer, you will
cease. You cannot even be aware of that, since you have no
substance, no talent for introspection. You are my robots, my
pawns. Dance for me.
----
FAT NIPPLES #4 - Spring/Summer 1994
PERPETRATOR: Chris
ABETTORS: Sean, Mimi, Maggie, Shimme, Brian
(unknowing, unwilling), Marisa
Additional copies of this issue cost 2 stamps.
There are still a few back issues left, if your interested.
Fat Nipples #2 - 3 stamps
Fat Nipples #1 - 2 stamps
Fat Nipples' sister, Attack Poetry, is available for 1 stamp.
Fat Nipples T-shirts are also available. They say "I Love Fat
Nipples (the fanzine, stupid)". They cost $5 ppd.
Contributions are always welcome.
To purchase any of these things or to correspond with his
humble greatness, Chris (do I have to beg?), write to:
FN
P.O. Box 2554
Trenton, NJ 08690
(609)890-0995
Internet: chris@pluto.njcc.com
---
Welcome to this rag. I sincerely hope you enjoy it. This issue
took me twice as long as any other for a variety of reasons.
The typeface is considerable smaller, I had virtually no
contributions to work with, my writing habits are sporadic at
best. As a result, I have put a lot more time, effort, care and
soul into this issue. Work began on January 6, 1994. I am
writing this on May 18 of the same year and plan to complete
this sometime in June August.
The concept of Fat Nipples has changed since the last issue.
The style continues to mutate, following some unconscious
whim. I have started to get more organized as far as outside
world contact. I am working on a mailing list database
(doubly backed up) to save me from zine addressing hell. Fat
Nipples is now being sold by a few distros. Hopefully this isn't
going to be printed at Staples the Corporate Colloso-world as
the others have. I have made startling progress exploring the
world of cyberspace. Fat Nipples text files are now readily
available throughout the Internet. I'm thinking about starting a
World Wide Web page for Fat Nipples. Computer eggheads,
please get in touch if you can help or contribute!
There are a couple changes in format this time. Reviews are
gone, replaced by a simpler and far less annoying playlist.
Poems are gone. I refer you to Attack Poetry, Fat Nips
beautiful little sister, available free at this address. Ads are
gone. This is partly because I consider them filler and partly
because I received no ads from anyone that I know. Enjoy.
----
I donÆt need to be treated like a martyr. I need to be treated
like a human being.
----
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
dearest chris and sean,
thank you for the copy of fat nipples #2. I guess I will start out by
saying that i was disappointed that a letter did not accompany your
zine. i do not know how you got my address or why you decided that
you wanted to check out my zine. i am glad that you did i just wish
people would actually write me and say actual things rather than 'send
me a zine'. do you know how that is? at least i received a zine with
your request. you didn't take the time to write but i'm always a little
more lenient when it comes to fellow zine geeks. i know how it gets
doing all the bullshit that goes with putting out a zine. i guess you
probably would like to know what i thought. even if you didn't i'm
going to. i don't like the name. i'm not offended by it or anything it
just seems like there might be a humorous story behind it and without
knowing that story it just falls short. I very much like the idea of
hemp paper. if you could get me a copy of the price list it would be
appreciated. you said they wouldn't copy it cuz it was too thin...
did you try doing it yourself. if not, go to kinko's and put it in
the self serve machines. just put it where the regular 8 1/2 by 14
slot(or whatever size you have) and try it out. or if it doesn't
work like they said, try feeding it one sheet at a time. i would
be very surprised if that fails. if you're worried about quality
just find a kinko's with canon self serve copiers that is what my
entire zine was done on and i think it looks ok plus there's a 1101
ways to scam from kinko's. anyways on the article about the
abolition of drug laws i agree with you to a point but i feel your
article falls short and is misdirected. whether legal or not, drugs
are still going to rake in cash for their gov't. drugs legalized will
just bring along with them federal and state taxes which i
guarantee are not going to back into anything useful. i guess i
feel that fighting for the legalization of drugs is a mute point. i'd
rather concern myself with the abolition of drug use completely,
for whether drugs are legal or not you are going to be supporting
this system that supposedly so many of us despise. and i feel this
should encompass legal addictions such as tobacco and alcohol as
well. i also don't feel that making drugs legal with certain
stipulations is the answer either. the you are taking one set of
guidelines and replacing it with another. new laws or old laws
with new stipulations are not going to solve this problem. next.
again, i agree with you to a point. yes the american penal system
is fucked. but do you really feel that the "criminals" are the
one's who need to be reformed? as a criminal, a very active one
at that, i must say that in the majority of cases the criminals are
the last thing that need to be reformed. next. the centerfold
sucked. by the way i'm gonna take this space and say that my views
on your zine might seem sorta harsh but i'm just being honest. i
feel that's the only way people are gonna learn. i personally
might not like it when someone says something in my zine sucks, but
i am happy to get that kind of feedback rather than have someone
bullshit me because they are afraid they are gonna hurt my feelings.
so if i seem harsh that's not my goal, i'm just being honest cuz i
feel you deserve it. anyway's... i was rather insulted by the anti-
gun piece. it did not seem well thought out, rational, and barely
coherent for that matter. i felt as if i were six years old again
and in a fight with a friend of mine at the playground. the only
response you are going to get by telling someone to 'leave you
alone' and to 'stop talking to you' is exactly the opposite of what
you probably would encourage. yelling at people doesn't work,
hasn't this been problem through the abortion issue? i would
comment on how i feel about the gun issue, but it is not wanted.
well there are a few more things i would like to touch upon but
time and sleeplessness are creeping up on me. i thank you for your
time and your zine i do look forward to another. i know this might
have seemed like one giant complaint, but please believe me when i
say i mean all of this in the most positive of ways. your ideas
have a lot of potential for growth and i hope you can use my
thoughts to encourage rather than discourage that. a response
would be appreciated. oh ya. it's late. sorry about the typos.
and i'm gonna be in philly on jan 7th for the show at the cabbage
collective and at the spoken word show on the 21st. i don't know
if you are close to philly, but if you are i look forward to the
chance of meeting you.
goodnight,
shimme
---
RESPONSE...
Dear Victimized,
In response to the eulogy I would like to say a few words. I very
much enjoyed my time in the band, and I miss all of you! The band
meant a lot to me too. I never wanted to see the "demise of
Victimized." I spend many of nights here at school watching the
video of the band, and we were good for our age and lack of strong,
and fully attended practices. My challenge to all of us is to be
able to play together maybe just once or maybe a few times more.
My reason is because it ended without anything to remember. I
really miss you all, I miss the band, because we had potential and
it's a shame to see it thrown away. Maybe soon we will all return
to the basement and hear,
"IT'S CALLED LIFE!"
Love, Jeff
P.S. I'll bring the pretzels and Coke.
---
i am sitting here in a room full of strangers. i've known most of
them for almost all of my short life time but, yet they are
strangers. they do not know me as i know myself. they do not see
the real me. they pass judgment. yes, it is true that i do not
know them as they know themselves but, i am not so bold as to pass
judgment on them. i don't know why its seems so uncomfortable
here, i mean it's nothing new. i always feel uncomfortable
everywhere, even at hoe. it's like i feel like an itchy foot
inside a leather shoe on a hot summer's day. i don't know why i've
always felt this way, it might be because i look at things in a
different way, far to different to be embraced or even accepted.
it couldn't be that though, no one's ever gotten close enough to me
to find out how i look at things. maybe if they knew me that way
and shunned me it would be easier to take but this is not the case
they do not know me in that way. the they know me is through
appearances. through my taste in music and clothes. nobody knows
the real me. it try and try to make people see that i am
intelligent and I AM NOT A FREAK! i've tried before but not any
longer i don't care anymore people sit and look at me with my
ramones t-shirt and combat boots and make their judgments, so let
them, i'm not in it anymore, they can't bring me down to their
level of following trends and fitting in at all costs. i say screw
them, let them fit in, at least i'll be the one with the clean bill
of mental health. as least i'm the one who is secure with myself
at least i'm the one who knows who my true friends are.
- maggie pie (of PURITAN'S GUILT)
---
[News item from Time Magazine]
BEATING BARNEY
He loved them; they didn't love him. Barney, the adorable-to some
people- purple dinosaur, found himself in dire straits last week at
the reopening of a K-mart in Galveston, TX, where the ever affable
T. rex (or, rather, a performer dressed in a Barney suit) was
assaulted and punched by four boys, ages 10 to 15. "The 13-year-
old tried to take off his head," says a police officer. At the
station house, phone lines were hammed with calls from frantic
fans. "Kids were taking it hard," says the officer. "I had to
tell them this was not the real Barney." A judge fined the
attackers $200 each and gave them until the age of 17 to pay up.
Better still, he should have made them listen to the _Barney_ song
until then.
---
SNOWED IN
Walls of crystalline purity push on these structures. Oppress
the earth and bind her labors. Suffocating pressure. They
contain me. On other days, these walls offer comfort. They
are my prison. School would be deliverance. You rob me. I
spite you. Someday, these days will be a memory. They will
melt away.
----
HONEST ABE AND OTHER FOLK TALES
Traveling within the PC circles that are my home, I find
amazing the number of people who have yet to realize
Abraham Lincoln's true role in slavery and civil warring. All of
the intelligent sheep in my classes cannot accept that he
couldn't give a shit about slavery. They can't even imagine
that the North was the "bad guy". No, no, no. All he ever
wanted to do in life was free the slaves! The South was just a
bunch of slave-owning bastards! Why were we taught these
lies?
Let's run through a little Civil War refresher course. The
South seceded from the Union. Did they have the right to do
that? Well, in a democracy, don't the people have the right to
choose what is right for themselves? The South having
peaceably seceded from the Union, was then attacked by the
North. Did the North have the right to do that? Well, if you
believe that saving an arbitrary Union is more important than
saving soldiers' lives, yes. Unfortunately, for those of us who
favor a rosy view of the nation's past, this makes the North
the aggressor. The North invaded the South. We usually
consider the aggressor the "bad guy". That's the way it was
when Iraq invaded Kuwait, when the USSR invaded
Afghanistan, when North Korea invaded South Korea and so
on throughout history. (Don't think for a minute that I agree
with all of these comparisons. Let's just take the party line on
this one.) The South then defended itself, as an autonomous
entity, and thusly reserved themselves the role of despised for
posterity.
"But, the North wanted to free the slaves. That's why they
invaded." That's a lie.
It came from the bastard's lips. "My intention is merely to
preserve the Union and neither retain nor destroy slavery."
(That is completely paraphrased) Why the Emancipation
Proclamation? Politics, people. The South was receiving aid
from France, whose national policy was against slavery. By
making slavery an issue in the war, the North denied it's
opponent a major supplier. Taadaa.
Lincoln was a remarkable man in some respects, but let's not
lose sight of this, now. In his day, he was considered
clownish and awkward. People did not take him seriously.
He was a Gerald Ford for crissake. Sometimes hindsight isn't
20/20.
----
I try to write journal style, but it's not me. It's so pretentious.
I'm not Thoreau.
----
RACIST OPERA
Isn't listening to Wagner the same as listening to Skrew-
driver? For those of you who are completely out of touch
with classical music and/or history(herstory?), Wagner is this
way famous composer, who lived in the late 19th century. He
wrote "Ride of the Valkyries" and other haunting tunes. The
problem is he was an infamous racist. He wrote fliers and
leaflets espousing racial purity and firmly believed in
Germanic ideas(these included the theory that people could
be categorized and "rated" based upon the shape of their
nose).
The question that I'm begging here is this: can historical
figures be excused their ignorance? Many of our "founding
fathers" were slave-owners. Does this make them any less
great? Almost every American president until Kennedy was a
racist. Does this make their legacies any less great(those that
have great legacies)? Can we measure the attitudes of past
figures based upon our current moral standards?
If Wagner lived in America today and publicly held the same
Germanic-superiority views he had then, he would be
despised, just as Skrewdriver is within PC and anti-racist
circles. So, is listening to Wagner the same as listening to
Skrewdriver? I'd really like to know.
ADDENDUM:
I am now reading Huckleberry Finn in my English class. I
really enjoy the book, but I am bothered by the instance of the
word "nigger". This was a word people used. This was they
way people thought. Should our teenagers be exposed to it?
If you take it from a historical perspective, it's easy to deal
with. If I was black I might feel differently.
----
MORE ON RACISM
I am sick of the middle class, white reaction to the Nation of
Islam. I am sick of hearing ignorant people launching into
tirades about anti-Semitism and black racism. Some of the
criticism leveled against them is perfectly valid, but I will
explain to you why none of this matters...
The Nation of Islam has one primary goal: to empower the
black community. When the Nation was established, there
was no such thing as a rich black man. Within the ghettoes,
poor blacks looked around them and they saw poverty created
by the white man's power over them. They saw Jewish store
owners and landlords who sucked every hard earned dollar
away from them. They saw a civil rights movement that did
little more than get several thousand brothers beaten and
killed.
Then the Nation of Islam came along and said, "Don't let the
white man manipulate you. Don't be the white man's slave.
Be your own man. Be a black man." The Nation worked hard
to improve the black family and the black community. Its
member's were forbidden to use alcohol or drugs and were
expected to have close-knit families. The Nation set up black-
owned businesses and black-run newspapers. It encouraged
blacks to be their own people and not rely on whites for
empowerment.
Now we run into a problem. The Nation of Islam was not and
is not content with improving their lot in life. They want
everyone to know why they have that lot in the first place.
They well-deservedly placed the blame on whites. They also,
and perhaps not so well-deservedly, blame Jews.
I cannot, and will not, say if Jews have any present-day role in
oppressing blacks. I am not black and I am not a Jew. I can
and will, however, take exception to the remarkable sensitivity
our country has towards anti-Semitism. Any criticism of
Jews, Israel or Barbra Streisand is immediately interpreted as
vile, Jew-hating propaganda. Bullshit.
So, excuse my divergence from the PC party line, and allow
me to say that any anti-Semitism on the part of the Nation of
Islam is almost entirely excused by their work on behalf of the
black people. The Nation has never, to my knowledge,
advocated violence against Jews. They have never, to my
knowledge, endorsed any kind of Holocaust genocide towards
any group.
Beyond that, I have to say that I do not endorse the Nation of
Islam in any way. Many of their beliefs(or what I know of
them) are ignorant. If you are interested in the religion of
Islam, you would be much better served to study orthodox
Islam.
----
I was wrong. Girls don't masturbate. Women do.
----
I am annoying. Imagine this didacticism translated into
humor and drilled into your ear involuntarily for forty-five
minutes or more. I am beautiful.
----
OPENING A CAN OF WORMS
or Abortion: My Two Cents
There is so much ignorance and intolerance on both sides,
but here's the bottom line--we don't know. We don't know.
We can't know. We never will know. I, personally, don't want
to know.
I am certain that sometime before birth, a fetus becomes
human. But when? 0 seconds, 1 month, 3 months, 6
months? We don't know. Where does it begin? I am also
certain that it is wrong to kill something(or someone), that is
alive. So, my reaction, as always, is to hedge my bets. Play
it on the safe side. I personally don't believe in abortion. I
don't think I would want my girlfriend to have an abortion.
As a man, it is not my choice. No matter what possibility of
that life in there, does that life over-rule a mother who must
carry it for nine months, give painful birth to it, when she
doesn't want it and can't provide for it? If that's the case, you
do the fetus a favor.
I am not willing to make any blanket statements. I am not a
woman. I will never have an abortion. It's not my problem.
To fanatics on both sides: ease up. Can't you respect the
other's point. Pro-lifers: Can't you see that there are some
things more important than latent life? Pro-choicers: Can't
you admit that there is some possibility that abortion is
wrong?
All I am asking for is tolerance.
----
HOW TO SELL-OUT
(And Still Be Punk)
1. Sign to a major. Tell all your old friends from the indie
scene to fuck off. Screw over your old record company.
2. Write an album full of material that sounds like a cross
between Man Is the Bastard and AM radio fuzz.
3. Take your $500,000 advance and spend $300 of it on
recording your major label debut!!! Spend the other $499,700
on equipment, vans, cars, homes, drugs, hair dye, etc.
4. (This is important.) REFUSE TO MAKE A VIDEO. Do not
pose for publicity photos. Do not go on tour. Do not do
interviews.
5. Lose your corporate label a whole shit-load of money.
6. Tell them to fuck off and live off the advance for a few
years(if you haven't spent it all on drugs).
7. Revel in the glory of punkness.
----
WHY I HATE HOMOS
I fucking hate homos. When I sit in class and some ignorant
asshole in the back is talking about "those fucking niggers" or
some macho slob is talking about girls like they're pieces of
meat, everyone knows he's an asshole. When some
homophobic meathead starts talking about the sanctity of his
asshole, I am alone. No one will back me up, because if you
don't think queers are disgusting, you MUST BE ONE OF
THEM FUCKING QUEERS! Wouldn't want anyone to think
that. "I don't fuck guys. Hell no. Ain't one o'them faggots."
Can't you just sit back and realize the ignorance you
perpetuate? Your silence is acceptance.
I don't mind being alone in my arguments, it's the frequency.
Can a day go by without some asshole starting shit with me?
Can one period pass without my sexuality being attacked by
mindless morons?
That's why I hate all of you fucking homos. You make me
fight for you. You make me scream for you. You make me
be an outsider for you. And what do I get in return?
Outstanding sex with a beautiful boy? Cheers and hurrahs
from passing gays in the street? I don't get shit. Ungrateful
bastards.
(Please do not get up-in-arms about this. It is not intended
seriously. I am very obviously anti-
homophobic(homophiliac?). It is just a cute little musing.
Laugh. It'll make you feel good.)
----
ASSAULT MY SEXUALITY
Seriously, homophobia is a topic that cannot be discussed in
my high school. It is tolerated to an extreme. It is perfectly
acceptable for teachers to make jokes about gays, call their
kids gay, make ignorant comments about homosexuality and
project their sexual mores onto us. It is not discussed. If
homosexuality is brought up outside of a controlled sexual
education environment, it is in almost certainly in a negative
light. I wrote a letter to my school paper about this problem.
It did not get printed. In it's place was a letter about club
fund-raisers. Shows you where our priorities are.
Every day in the classroom, my sexuality is assaulted.
Whether it be from a need to fit in or from simple-minded
ignorance, most of the people I see every day fall for this
homophobic propoganda. What makes me the most angry
about all of this is that any number of people in this school
may be homosexual. If I am offended by this environment,
they must feel oppressed.
Forty years ago, it was acceptable for a teacher to call a black
child "nigger". That was the way it was. Hopefully, in forty
years, my grandchildren, will find it hard to believe that when I
was a child, teachers used the word "faggot" and made
presuppositions about their sexuality. Someday.
----
PUNK ROCK HOMEWORK #1
This is one in a series of punk rock homework assignments.
The assignment was to write a thank you note to your teacher.
Thank you teacher...
for stifling my individuality.
for showing me there's only one way to think.
for making me one of the herd.
for depriving me of the most fundamental sense of
self.
for attacking my sexuality.
for forcing me into your slavery.
for making my differences vice.
for allowing them to laugh at me.
for treating me like an amusing toy.
for destroying my pride.
thank you teacher.
thanks for nothing.
----
The United States government has continually sent our "dept.
of defense" to attack many nations in those fifty years; seems
much more like offense to me.
BRYAN ALFT(Contrascience)
----
Sundays are a sort of pinnacle for me. all day a feeling of
unease and manic boredom lay over me like an overbearing
father. at night, i can not rest, for everything makes sense to
me. images fall together and overlap. i make a connection
between everything. realization scares me more than
anything as i lay w/ my eyes pressed against to darkness.
nothing is more lonely than a Sunday. Monday a.m. sucks
too. a "hangover" from the night before.
SEAN
----
PUNK ROCK HOMEWORK #2:
Describe a comic strip
Come on, it's Dilbert.
Irony of hi-tech equip + lo-tech minds. The triviality of cutting
edge jargon spouted by techno-geeks w/pocket protectors.
Self-conscious repressed virtual reality sexuality engineers.
Double talk around the work. Stupid Elbonians. Ratbert's
gonna' fly some day. Some day.
----
PUNK ROCK HOMEWORK #3:
Humorous story
I walked into the wall and (ouch!) banged my head again.
bangbangbang. Don't look at me!
Oh no I'm bleeding. I can't see outside my afro, my universe
- only in. Deepdeepdeep. Don't stare at me!
What is the meaning of life? Why does love fade away?
Why does it matter? All I can do is search within my sole.
Loose-fitting shoes are not all the rage. Baggy just won't work
at all.
Everything is red. Only I am blue.
YOU JUST DON'T GET IT
----
My friend died. I am sitting here and I'm made to feel like a
stone. I am sorry, but my friend is dead. The hours I have
spent staring at my wall, silently crying were not ill spent. I
have found my peace. Do not make me feel like a brick.
Everybody wants to talk. I cannot talk. It does me little good.
We may talk until our throats bleed and he will still be dead.
He would have known I would write this. He wouldn't have
understood why. He never did. That was not his problem. I
miss his understanding. I miss his smile. He'll never again
tell me about the new P.M. Dawn disc. He'll never try to
explain reincarnation to me. He is dead.
Goodbye Naveen.
----
I bleed into your reservoir, considering the change in emotions
over these last few months. Tears dry up, leaving hints of
trails glistening. I feel a crushing nothing in my chest.
Anxiety bursting from my arteries into your fresh-water well--
salinated by my very existence. Now I fall through a thousand
seconds of shrieking and still bleeding. Hit bottom from top,
up. I grow accustomed to the dark, damp loneliness staring
at the faraway beacon of another world. I spend my days in
substantial nothingness--never once considered boring. I
spend my days without you. In this world...without you.
----
PUNK ROCK HOMEWORK #4:
Free-Written Autobiography
My name is Chris and I was born under a star.
twinkletwinkletwinkle it shines on my eyes like a cigarette
lighter. Zippo w/o the Z only with more pizzazz more umph!
there it is indeed. back then everybody wore Nikes it was a
common thing thinking about the end of the world.
apocalypse. killing for food. eating chewing spitting natural
substances unnatural lives kicking out the walls from
underneath me falling down scraping my knee lots of ings
what do you call it? sitting w/a baby in her lap is all I've ever
done sitting staring adjective for perhaps. cramp develops
first in the outer\inner muscles of hands + expands to lower
fore-arm radiating w/the ulna! cut slice gash root beer bagel
kill it with one quick blow. destroy it. sometimes I wonder
about how quickly time fades fast. I am not five minutes late
you fat bastard, get your nose out of the slipstream. Things
like this work very simply. I am not talking about you. Why do
you always think I'm talking about sex? that's not where it
comes from. it comes from here (pointing long slender finger
to left nipple, then right).
radiation burns on my hips, lips sources of power not as
potent as fusion but ample to disintegrate an entire
metropolitan suburb. I am not a vassal
a sect
indentured to you or anyone.
I've never killed a man (though I've thought about it more
often than you'd think) stop looking over but you're not are
you just taking a peak at you notes for "stream of conscious"
Seems oxymoronic to me, fuckhole. What I am thinking
about hurts to touch. Boring. tweettweettweet. Spring has
sprung. Hard to believe two days ago this was torture, but it
turns into things no-one understands purposeful lying in
issues of soul. Deception in cloak of absolute honesty. Mary
is crying about what? She's dead a hundred zillion billion
years. Jesus was no king of mine. Taxes have been levied
on freedom. Take 90% right off the top. You think you're
above the law? I can kill you as if you were never here never
heard of make a difference yeah right spitting out of my head
stood at the precipice and fell + gillius pile of nothing why are
you looking at my paper egocentric game perhaps? too many
I I Is and me me mes? it doesn't matter my world ends at my
fingertips doesn't extend beyond my overgrown toenails.
Don't make me fucking kill you you son of a bitch. Too much
death imagery too much killing hurting burning too may
fucking participles is that what lies untapped in my
consciousness? Is this what I have to look forward to?
endless hours of past present future participial verbiage on
morbid topics race relation do not improve outside of the
arctic climes when you think of winning - does that excite
you? Does that make you want to fuck? the sad part is you
don't use steroids. Wasting hours days weeks punishing
some ergonomically designed machine for your inferiority.
Hard bodies limp dicks. It has been at least fifteen if not
twenty minutes. perhaps I push too hard. perhaps, participle,
death - my subconscious. go to fucking hell. the hand gets
tighter + tighter as we speak. can this go in FN does anyone
want to read this shit? Mrs. Walker might be proud or
perhaps somewhat disappointed. Don't write me I'll write you
90-95% morons in this world if not 98%. Indians are nice. I
am done.
----
[News item from The Times of Trenton]
SCHOOL SMOKING POLICIES A BURNING ISSUE
by Deborah Kovach Caldwell(Staff Writer)
PENNINGTON--On the last day of school, Kristin Silady and Rachel
Maski had wandered from Hopewell Valley High School over to Main
Street, where they were hanging around, waiting for a ride home.
The girls, who had just completed 10th grade, reflected on Hopewell
Valley's 3-month-old smoking policy that sends students caught
smoking two times on school property before a municipal judge, who
slaps them with a fine.
"I think youth culture is smoking," said Silady, 15, who said she
doesn't smoke but has friends who do. "We're both into the
subculture idea, the Seattle scene."
Often, that means wearing dark plaid shirts, listening to grunge
rock--and smoking. Silady, who wore a tie-dyed shirt and wide,
buckled Birkenstock sandals, looked for encouragement to Maski, 16,
who had a smiley face sticker pasted on her forehead. To Silady
and Maski, the new policy is another example of adult overreaction...
----
I just got back from a 3-day Youth and Government
Conference. Basically, it was a model New Jersey
Legislature. Each group came with it's own bill and we went
through the actual process of committee, subcommittee, floor
debate. It was not what I would call fun, but it was interesting.
Bills introduced covered everything from a constitutional
amendment to protect the rights of homosexuals(which was
passed and will be a referendum on next year's ballots) to a
bill that would mandate the death penalty for any second
offenders of a violent crime(which was, thankfully, defeated).
And there, I find the problem with this conference. These kids
were insane. They had convinced themselves that this
legislation was real(it was not, except for the previously
mentioned homosexuality amendment, which became a
referendum). They thought that its passage was important.
They kissed ass, lobbied and degraded themselves for votes.
My girlfriend says it was all in the spirit of competition, but I
think these people were insane. My bill, which would have
eliminated tenure for teachers, was voted out quickly. Though
I was a little let down, I didn't care. Sample conversation
overheard on bus: "It is vitally important that you override the
Governor's veto." What is vitally important about it? It
doesn't accomplish shit other than make you feel good about
yourself.
To say the least, these people were geeks, but I think this
says something about our population. They were so worried
about getting their pretend bills passed, but do they even take
one second and think about real legislation and real grass-
roots change? My friend Sean is fond of saying that religion
was invented so people would worry more about the meaning
and nuance of the Adam and Eve story than their shitty living
conditions. I think this applies in a much broader sense.
People, we need to keep our eyes on the prize. Don't let our
interests be diverted by foolishness. Think real problems and
real answers. Go out and change the real world.
Good luck.
----
In the past, I have held a very radical anti-gun stance. Now, I
find myself questioning the wisdom of gun bans. I do not
believe that a gun should ever be shot at anything. I do not
buy into the us or them philosophy. I do not think any
homeowner should be taking pot-shots at burglars. I do not
believe in the old saw "if you outlaw guns, only outlaws have
guns" (at least, it doesn't frighten me). I do believe in and I
am frightened by this new saw though -- "if you outlaw guns,
only the government has guns." I do not believe in armed
revolution. I do, however, hold a high concern for the welfare
of a people dictated by an authoritarian government without
the right to firearms. When they come for me, I'll go
peacefully, but I do not think I have the right to tell everyone
else to go peacefully as well. oh well.
this does not change my feelings towards guns. the only
thing a gun can do is kill (unless you use it as a hat stand)
and that is abhorrent. Get another hobby, hunters and
marksmen. Make models or something.
----
VEGETARIAN NIGHTMARES
I had a dream last night that I was at a restaurant with my
family and my order got mixed up and they brought me some
kind of chicken parmesan dish and instead of sending it back
right away i started eating it. I can't say it tasted good, but it
didn't taste bad like most radical veggies would have you
believe, it just tasted like meat, which is a strange taste when
your not used to it. I just kept on eating it and I was thinking
"what the fuck are you doing? don't you have any self-
control? this is MEAT." but I didn't care and just kept eating
until my mother complained to the waitress and got my food
taken back and I ended up eating about half of it. Maybe I
had that dream because last night, at dinner, my brother was
sprinkling bacon bits on his salad, but the package wasn't
marked bacon bits so I said, "what's that?" and my mom said,
really quick, "oh, you can't have that" and I was like "OK, i
don't want it but I can have any damn thing I please", y'know?
----
ZINE TRADE FOLLIES
Every month, I sit down with the new MRR and find zines that
I'd like to read in the review section. Then I send off a copy of
Fat Nipples and ask them if they want to trade. If the review
doesn't specifically say that they trade, i send along a note
saying "if you don't want to trade, please write me and I'll send
you the money, OK?" or something similar. Well, I don't think
about it much, because when I get a zine in my P.O. Box I'm
just happy to have it and run home and read it, but I just
looked over the list of zines I've sent away to, and I'd say that
over the last six months less than half of those zines have
even responded. I've gotten precisely 2 letters saying, "I'm
sorry, but I'd really rather you pay." What the hell? Are you
zine editors too good? When I get mail I praise the lord and
respond immediately. I guess I have some growing up to do,
huh?
----
Can you try to imagine the stores of information a medical
specialist, like a gynecologist, or a cardiologist, or a
gastroenterologist, has on one particular thing? What would it
be like to know everything there is to know about the human
stomach? The weird thing is, most of these people really
don't have any care for that part. They don't have any
passion for that organ. These people go into specialty fields
merely so they can make more money. How can you devote
your entire life to the study of stomachs without having a
deep, pathological connection to them?
That's the problem with our world today. We are much too
pragmatic in our choice of career. What field has jobs? What
career pays well? Who cares? You are devoting your whole
life to making money? That's not the way. If your going to
make a lifetime commitment, you should have a profoundly
spiritual connection to your work. You have to love it. There
has to be a fulfillment within it. Even when you are working
sixty hour weeks you should be consumed with absolute
infatuation with your work. That's the way it should be. Every
stupid motherfucker doing what they love and loving what they
do. It's so beautiful.
----
BLUEBERRY SATIN
I love blueberry filling. It's just so...so...perfect. You cannot
screw up blueberry filling. Apples can get sour and cherries
suck, but blueberries just work. Put them in a pie, cake,
muffins, turnovers, danish, bagels, on and on. There is not
one true blueberry treat that let's down (the qualifier "true"
being necessary for the wise-ass who writes in about Boo-
berry Pebbles or some shit.)
Imagine the glorious day when the blueberry army finally
takes over the world, crushing the apples and cinnamon,
lemon, cherry, coconut, meringue wannabes. Fuck that shit
up!
I love blueberry filling
----
LITERARY SNIPPETS AND UNFINISHED BUSINESS
"Sometimes is just not enough," is what he said to me. The
words screamed in my head. They sounded wounded like a
deer..........
"Italy in autumn, my dear." My dear was always how he
referred to her when in the presence of "company". Company
usually included Salvador Lintini. She had known Salvador
since college. What she always referred to as college was a
brief two month stay at her home town's community college.
Salvador had dropped out three weeks before.
It wasn't always this way. William knew that distinctly. He
could vividly remember large, generous meals and new, clean
clothes. It hadn't always been so hard. His mother hadn't
always looked how she looked now. Her once smooth skin
now hung loosely from her thin limbs and face. Her
astonishing blue eyes were gray and sunken. Her legendary
pride had been broken many times over and was now only a
distant memory-- a shattered mirror of the past, ground to
dust in the cold reality of the present--recalled only by old
friends and relatives. Loss.
The crying had grown more frequent as the weeks passed by
with no response. The once salty tears had dried up.
"You can smell it in the air if you try. I swear you can."
It was just an old legend.
Life is something that Sherry never hesitated to live. If you
knew her like I do, you would wholeheartedly agree, but lately,
her parents had been getting worried. They feared that she
was becoming suicidal. This served as more proof to Sherry
that her parents would never understand her. Frankie had
been dead almost a year now.
In the old days, they used to call it courage, but these days,
they just chop your balls off and leave you to cry. They don't
believe in real men any more. I'll kill any "man" that tries to
tell me he has what it takes. I know what it takes and they
don't have it. None of them do. And how could they?
You don't know what I'm talking about, do you? Let me fill
you in...
----
I never really believed in the Easter Bunny. I don't think most
kids did. Let's face it, Easter is a lame holiday. It's much too
overtly religious. At Christmas, it's very easy to forget all that
shit about Jesus being born and people just get drunk and
give each other presents. You pretty much can't get away
from the fact that Easter is about Jesus. One lame little
bunny that brings shitty candy (nothing cool like Santa) can't
change that. To tell you the truth, I feel bad for the little
bastard. The tooth fairy gets more respect than that guy.
----
ARMAGEDDON'S COMING
Right now, I am so terrified of Armageddon. I saw this show
on Sunday call "Ancient Prophecies". It said that
Nostradomus predicted two-thirds of the worlds population
would be killed sometime around May of 1999. It was implied
that the cause would be nuclear holocaust.
I am so fucking scared for this world. This scenario is so
possible, with nuclear proliferation and the United States's
continuing imperialist stance. All it would take is some tough-
guy president (Bob Dole?) making one wrong move and,
bang, North Korea blows up New York. What would the U.S.
military do in this situation? Would they let a single, isolated
nuclear attack escalate into full-scale world-wide
thermonuclear war? Is it possible for the military to intercept
transcontinental missiles?
In 1999, I will be 20. I will be a fourth-year college student,
scrambling for something to do with my life when college
ends. My mind will be filled with possibilities for the future.
Will a nuclear holocaust steal away those possibilities? Why
mine? Through thousands of years of civilization, why is my
generation the one that gets stuck with world-wide
extermination? It could have happened any time in the last
fifty years. Why me? Why us?
There are only two comforting thoughts within this. First, I do
not really believe in mysticism and prophecy and maybe this
is all just a load of crap. Second, perhaps awareness of this
prophecy will prevent its fulfillment. To my knowledge,
Nostradamus has always been proven in hindsight. By this, I
mean that scholars looked at his prophecies and attached
their meaning to historical events years after the fact. Have
Nostradamus's prophecies ever been common knowledge as
predictions?
I remember seeing a program on Nostradamus years ago,
with either Raymond Burr or Orson Welles--some fat old guy.
The fat old guy said that Nostradamus emphasized the ability
of man to alter the future. Also, he said that Nostradamus
predicted that when Halley's comet passed by in the 80's, it
would come too close and hurtle mankind into cannibalism.
That scared the shit out of me when I heard it. But it didn't
happen. Will the same thing happen with this? I hope so.
----
OLD WOMAN SMOKING A CIGARETTE
Long, thin and delicate, held precariously at the end by the
limp grasp of third and fourth knuckle, first and second finger.
Lean with neck forward, pucker out and inhale. Dentures
retreat inward slightly and cheeks concave with desperation.
Sucking, almost gasping. Hold it in and release. I'm so
fucking glamorous.
----
Winter is over. Finally. The cold is gone, replaced by
lukewarm and chilly spring days. Monotonous white existence
wiped into a thousand color parade, green dominant. Atoms
crackle with energy and life. Birds sing songs about love.
I'm desperate to reach out and be a part of this again.
----
KURT COBAIN, DEITY
Kurt Cobain is dead and that is a tragedy. It is not the end of
the world. My life will be just the same before and after, but I
refuse to be a generic asshole punk and laud his passing.
There are a lot of people who mourn for him and they deserve
respect. The least I can do is think of the good things he did,
as well as the bad.
Nirvana sold out, but they were punk once. Obviously they
didn't sign with Geffen because they wanted to be rock stars.
A little more money, maybe, or respect. I bought their first
major label album, Nevermind. I really liked it for a while, but
its the kind of album you get sick of (i.e. Dagnasty, Bad
Religion). By the time their next album came out I had written
them off as jock fodder. Apparently, so had Kurt.
He was a fucking asshole. He had a wife and a beautiful
baby. I guess he thought his child would be better off with a
dead father than with a dysfunctional one. I hope you're a
little happier, Kurt, lying stone cold in your grave. You were
the ultimate icon of the supposed "slacker generation". You
couldn't give a shit about this life one way or the other, could
you?
If, in twenty years, Oliver Stone produces a movie called
Nirvana and there is a huge Nirvana resurgence and Kurt
Cobain is worshipped unto a god, I will have to dig up his
grave and kill him three or four more times.
----
My work has become diffuse, dissatisfying, like a meal with no
main course. I can no longer form opinions. I used to have
opinions--strong ones. I had answers. Now, I do not. I
cannot find the answers. I doubt they even exist. Everything
has become so polarized. Everyone has an opinion and an
absolute conviction that it is correct. Opinions are the
ultimate discrimination. Denying an idea the right to be.
Dismissing it for its bad points, ignoring its good. One of the
qualities essential to our survival is seeing both sides.
Simple-minded partisonism breeds reactionary thinking.
Trouble brews, people die. Empathy.
----
This is one thing that will never die.
----
I have this dream of a little punk rock high school. There
would be no school spirit. The cheerleader's would spit beer
and yell "Fuck you!" at the crowd, massed together not to root
for sports teams that don't exist. There would be a punk rock
marching band, with all the usual marching band instruments,
but no music, just screeches and whelps and farts from the
tuba. Everybody would hate everybody and there would be
graffiti all over the place and it would just be awesome.
----
That was all meant in jest, but punk rock might as well be a
high school with all the cliques and elitism and other bullshit
that goes on. It's a fucking joke.
----
I'm a little concerned about the fact that I have written only
fifteen pages in three months. This zine might be done in
June. Is any of this crap worth reading anyway?
-----
Is it punk to go to proms? I don't like the things. It's a dress-
up night and it seems like only the girls can really get into it.
What is the point of getting into a tux and spending mucho
dinero for the privilege of wanting to kill everybody in the
place? Shitty food, shitty music, lame-ass dancers who laugh
at those who actually express themselves, fucking
hatehatehate.
----
In Hamilton, we practice white trash as an art form.
----
Between Lois Lane, Wynona, Meg Ryan and Sara Gilbert, I've
got my hands full.
----
My girlfriend thinks that everyone can control everything they
do. I disagree. I give people a lot of credit for losing control
of their actions.
----
The people who invented yoga went through a lot of trouble to
prostrate themselves. They do a half-twist, triple-linding,
somersault then a cartwheel, bend their leg back over their
head and land on the ground face down begging for God's
forgiveness.
----
I have heard this so many times so let me go over it for you,
so you don't make the same mistake. It is perfectly obvious
that if we all acted the same and all believed the same things,
there would not be wars. This is not an insight. So, do not
lecture me on how if we'd all just realize that you're right,
there's be no more hate, no more crime. I don't want to be
like you. I want to hate you.
----
Every single issue of this fucking zine is different. Hopefully
they are getting better as I go along..
----
I like Star Trek, but it's a TV show, not a lifestyle. It's well-
written and interesting. The characters are compelling and
the plots are involving. If I am around when it's on, I watch it.
I cannot live my life around it.
I've never been one to religiously watch a TV show. Usually,
through most of the school year, I don't watch TV at all, then
as the spring and summer come, I start to watch a few shows
regularly. I'm not sure why. I have less to do, I guess. Right
now, the only shows I see almost every week are "Seinfeld"
and "Lois and Clark".
----
This zine is being born very slowly. It is a long and painful
delivery. I haven't even started to lay it out yet and that's the
most frustrating part. Whenever I get in a writing mood, I let it
pass without writing. Then I sit down to write with no ideas at
all. Is that back asswards or what? Every time I do this, I
manage to create a completely new style for myself. Look:
The first issue was nothing but long essays, most of them
about politics. The second issue was tons of short essays,
most of them about politics. The third was short musings,
none of them about politics. This one is long musings, very
few about politics. Can't I make up my fucking mind?
----
JFK IS DEAD
A little over thirty years ago, Lee Harvey Oswald put a bullet
into JFK's head, effectively killing him. Unfortunately, the
dumb bastard didn't do the job right and so, people still talk
about the whole thing like it happened yesterday. Back when
the movie came out, I was fond of saying, "Who killed JFK?
You did." Actually, it was Lee Harvey.
A lot of people cite a lot of evidence saying that it wasn't
Oswald, that he was just a "patsy". I've been exposed to a lot
of this, read a few books, watched Oliver Stone's movie three
times and come to this conclusion: There might have been a
conspiracy, but there needn't be one. The "lone nut" theory
can explain pretty much everything that happened. If there
was a conspiracy, it would have had to be huge, involving the
CIA, Secret Service, Pentagon, Dallas Police and numerous
civilians. While this is certainly a possibility, I would refer you
to "Occam's razor", which states that a person should not
increase, beyond what is necessary, the number of entities
required to explain anything. Basically, this means that the
simplest explanation is usually the most truthful. While the
JFK assassination could be explained in terms of a massive
governmental, pro-/anti-Castro Cuban, organized crime
conspiracy, it could just as well, and much more simply, be
explained in terms of one lone idiot.
Here are a couple of facts to tide you over: Oswald could
have fired three shots in the assumed time period. The so-
called "magic bullet" could have done everything that it did
without any twistings, turnings or severe smashing. Oswald
had apparently tried to assassinate a prominent New Orleans
political figure previously. Oswald was a nut. Where the
shots came from has no real bearing on JFK's head
movements (neural spasms and reflexes outweigh bullet
momentum).
Sometimes we allow ourselves to digest evidence about the
assassination without really questioning its credibility or any
countering evidence. You have to think. Really, the problem
is that defense of the lone assassin theory has always rested
on the flawed Warren Commission Report. The amount of
intelligent material supporting their conclusions has been lost
in the deluge of material countering it. Anyone who turns up a
new picture of any of the "key" members of the "conspiracy"
has material for a new book on their hands, with "startling new
evidence."
Many are into this so that they can prove what awful things
the government can do. But at the same time, they are
lionizing a perfect example of it, John F. Kennedy himself. He
escalated the war in Vietnam (despite popular belief, he had
no intentions of ending that war). He denied protection to
southern blacks when they were being attacked, but the
second they lashed out at whites the National Guard was
making the scene. He was a hell of a womanizer and a
shrewd politician. He was a politician. And he got shot for it.
----
WEEKEND BLUES
There's no point in even being alive today. All of my friends
are somewhere far away. The businesses are closed and do
not want to haggle over zine matters. My father wants to do
yard work. Get me out of this place.
----
[News item from The Times of Trenton]
CHICAGO -- A businessman spent about $20,000 to buy up most of
executed serial killer John Wayne Gacy's artworks, and he plans to
get a return on his investment by burning them. "We want them wiped
off the map," said Joe Toth, who bought more than two-dozen of the
40 Gacy works for sale at yesterday's auction. "It's too bad we
couldn't have wiped them all off the map." Auctioneer James Quick
said he didn't immediately know exactly how many paintings Roth
bought. Roth, owner of a truck parts business, said he wants to
make a point by burning the paintings created by the man convicted
in 1980 of killing 33 boys and young men during the 1970s. Gacy was
executed Tuesday.
[end news item]
This is so fucking sick. Art cannot be guilty. Art should not
be punished. Gacy killed 33 people. This bastard is going to
kill 24 acts of beauty and creativity. Just because Gacy was a
killer, that means that his expression cannot exist? Wasn't life
in prison and lethal injection his punishment? Now we have
to destroy his legacy as well? I feel no sympathy for Gacy.
The man was sick. I feel nothing for him, but his art makes
me want to cry.
----
GLOWING REVIEWS!!!
[from HeartattaCk #1]
FAT NIPPLES #2 8.5 x 7 $1 44 pgs
The first thing that scared me about _Fat Nipples_ was this quote
from the letters section, "...though I know Bush was not too hot, I
personally think Clinton is the worst thing that could have
happened to us. I hope Bob Dole..." From then on I found myself
becoming more and more annoyed every few pages. The layout was
good and all, but the content was not all too impressive, mostly
politics with a libertarian slant. First, sexuality is reduced to
a matter of "who you fuck." Then, I am hit by a cartoon claiming
that marginalized groups victimized themselves to create the "right
to feel so lousy." I could go on and on. The only positive fact
going for this _Fat Nipples_ was being printed on hemp and straw
paper. But issue #3 admits that this paper couldn't be used. AM
(P.O. Box 2554/Trenton, NJ, 08690)
the passages in question:
even though I know Bush was not too hot, I personally think Clinton
is the worst thing that could have happened to us. I hope Bob Dole
runs.
there's not much going on in the world right now, but there are some
things i think warrant discussion:
1) homosexuals in the military--if your dumb enough to want to die
for your country it shouldn't matter who you fuck. you're really
fucking yourself. the "don't ask, don't tell" proposal is a cop-out.
homosexuals should be allowed the same freedom to speak of their
orientation as hets. certainly, there will be the same restrictions
on sexual behavior as there is on hets, so what's everyone so
worried about?
my review of the review:
I make no bones when someone gives Fat Nipples a bad
review. If people call it boring, immature, not well thought out,
whatever, I can respect that. When people slam FN out of
ignorance I have to take exception.
The first complaint is that I allow a letter writer to support Bob
Dole. I also had concerns about that line and it made me
raise an eyebrow at the sanity of the letter writer. However, I
thought the letter was well-written and I cannot be held-
responsible for my reader's thoughts. Letter writer's opinions
do not reflect upon mine whatsoever and I do not presume to
censor anyone's thoughts.
Most people would say that Fat Nipples is impressive for its
content, but its layout sucks, but this reviewer has it ass
backwards.
Then, I reduce sexuality to "who you fuck." My intention with
that piece was to express support for gays. I only put sexual
orientation in terms of "who you fuck" so I could use what I
thought was a nifty play on words--"It shouldn't matter who
your fuck, you're really fucking yourself." I, personally, take a
minimalist view of sexuality anyway and I don't think that it is
much more than "who you fuck." This reviewer should be
attacking people who would tell her who to fuck. Would it be
more appropriate if I said "who you fall in love with"?
What this reviewer got out of the cartoon mentioned is
completely opposite from what I intended. The only reason I
used that cartoon is because the character said "victimized",
the name of my band, in every frame. I think the reviewer
managed to completely miss the point of the strip.
Finally, the reviewer accuses me of trying to fool my readers
into thinking that the zine was printed on hemp paper. She
neglects to mention that in my explanation in FN #3, I
explained that I fully intended to use hemp paper right up to
the day the zine was printed. Unfortunately, at the copy
center, I found out the paper company had ripped me off and
there was no way I could use their paper. Right then and
there I bought a few reams of recycled paper to replace it and
placed an apology on the side of the front page. I had to write
it in ballpoint pen, so it came out extremely faint, but it is
there. I still haven't gotten my money back from the paper
company.
Overall, I think this review was simple-minded, reactionary
and unfair. Some of the reviewers statements seem to have
no foundation in reality, and other's assume that the function
of a zine editor is to be an omniscient, omnipresent and
restrictive. My intent in creating Fat Nipples is to offer an
open forum for opinions. I will print anything that anyone
writes to me in response to what I have written. This reviewer
needs to get a fucking clue.
----
Despite what I've been taught since birth, it has become
apparent that men do not have nipples. The "Webster's New
Dictionary and Thesaurus, Concise Edition" defines nipples as
"the small protuberance on a breast or udder through which
the milk passes." I do not have breast or udders and I do not
pass milk, so I suppose that I have no nipples. Yourself?
----
Do not send me chain letters. I don't care if they are get rich
quick schemes or "alternative exchanges", just don't send
them to me. They get thrown in the garbage. Why? Because
they don't work. They can't. They claim that if I send the
person at the top of the list a zine or a dollar and put my name
at the #10 position, then send it to ten people, I will receive
100 of whatever I sent. They way I figure it, I should get 10
billion. There's not enough people, let alone zines, to fulfill
that.
----
Hunters are pussies. I'll respect any man that can kill a deer
with his bare hands. He can eat any part of that bastard he
pleases.
----
I just got back from Disneyland. It's fun, but I was there to
perform with my school band, so I got to see a side of Disney
that few people do. We went "backstage". We got to see all
of the character's with their heads off. We were told how the
whole park is a performance. Everything there is designed to
make you feel happy and youthful. Now, that's kind of cool,
unless you consider the manipulative side of it. What they
really want to do is put you into a buying mood. A child-like
state were, when faced with an expensive item (as all of
Disney's items are), you say "fuck it, why not?" I'll tell you
why not. Ten dollars is not a reasonable price for a
photograph. Five dollars is not a reasonable price for a salad.
All of that unreasonable money goes straight into the pocket
of a corporation. Disney is a corporation, just like all the other
corporations I've railed against in these pages, but they don't
seem as evil as other corporations. They own suck-dog
music labels (Hollywood) and they do a lot of things that
sucky corporations do, but it seems that their heart is in the
right place in a lot of things. Could anybody provide proof
that this is a false premise?
----
It's two o'clock in the morning and I shouldn't be writing.
That's a lie. It's eleven thirty and I'm tired. I have a headache
and my eyes are starting to dry up on me. Last Action Hero
was funny and it made me laugh. This is wanking and I know
it. Literary, self-indulgent wanking.
----
I can't rationalize my enjoyment of Quinten Tarantino's work.
For those of you who wouldn't know a good movie if it
smacked you, Quentin is a writer/director who creates
fascinating, hilarious, engaging, fantastically violent movies.
His films are full of death, blood, torture and gun-play. Why
do I find them so amusing? Am I one of the mass media's
desensitized children? Not really. I abhor violence. However,
there's something about extreme violence in cinema; when it
defies logic and reality, when its always a no-win situation.
Maybe that's one reason. Quinten doesn't really glorify
violence. It almost always turns into a no-win situation and
maybe that's where it rises above other ultra-violent schlock.
Maybe his films are supposed to demonstrate the futility of
violence and make us wonder "was it all worth it?"
Meanwhile, they're just damn good fun.
These should be seen:
Tarantino's films (so far):
"Reservoir Dogs" w/Harvey Keitel
"True Romance" w/Christian Slater
"Natural Born Killers" w/Woody Harrelson + Julliete Lewis
(directed by Oliver Stone)
----
I suppose I'll be screaming this until the day I die. The phrase
is "hardcore punk" and the two words are indistinguishable.
They describe the same thing. Unfortunately, it is sometimes
useful to specifically categorize music and so has arisen a
dichotomy that establishes streamlined definitions for
"hardcore" and "punk". This has produced block-head
"hardcore" kids who scoff at punk and meat-head punks who
sneer at "prog-rock hardcore" and on and on. Goddammit
people, its all the same. Hardcore punk is an attitude more
than it is music. If you dislike a bands music, at least respect
their message and support them as part of our scene. Bands
that court major label attention are neither hardcore, nor punk
and should thus be ignored. Let them be alternative, or metal,
or whatever the hell they want to be, as long as they don't
dare call themselves hardcore punk.
----
Summer is here, if only in principle, soon put into practice with
scorching hot days peppered with flight to cooler environs
(houses, restaurants, air-conditioned meccas). The out-of-
doors is intolerable, at least until a certain familiarity is
achieved. My head pounds with boiling blood and I think with
curiosity of the times when I wished for this. The weather
system is having catastrophic mood swings and hot flashes.
All I wish for is fall again.
----
The reason, it seems, that I am unable to enjoy sports is my
nonpartisan disposition. Though others will find themselves
root, root, rooting for the home team by default, I am content
to see both teams succeed. I am unable to revel in the glory
of victory or wallow in the sorrow of defeat. In the end,
somebody won and its usually quite a good game.
----
This may be a far-fetched conceit, but I have begun to truly
believe that society would greatly benefit if the int
ellectually
superior had free reign to kill. The idea was planted in my
head by the Alfred Hitchcock film, Rope. If you have the will,
the strength and the cunning to kill and get away with it,
perhaps you should not be punished, but commended.
Anyway, something must be done about stupidity. It is
reaching epidemic proportions.
----
I'm not certain whether my memories actually occurred or if I
saw them on Oprah. I'm almost positive my transvestite half-
brother abused me, but I don't think my mom likes the way I
dress.
----
MY FAVORITE RECORDS
(Nov. 93 - July 94)
Born Against - Battle Hymns of the Race War (Vermiform)
Iconoclast - Greatest Hits Vol. I (Ebullition/Old Glory)
Heroin - Paper Bag (Gravity)
Unwound - Fake Train (Kill Rock Stars)
Amenity - Forward into the Past (Vinyl Communications)
Rancid - s/t (Epitaph)
---
This zine represents seven months of my life. A lot of what I
have written isn't true anymore. Some of my opinions have
changed. I present this to you as a curioso. Don't take what I
say too seriously. I don't.
---
Goodbye folks. This was written on July 26, 1994. I am
done. This is it. Finished. No more. Leave!
---
Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift.
That is why it's called the present.
(Avis Renta-Car shuttle driver)
----
Thank you very much.
---
This has been Fat Nipples #4 - Electric. If you want a paper copy,
send me two stamps. Feel free to copy this, upload it, put it
anywhere and everywhere you can. Just don't change it and don't
charge for it, OK? Thanks for sticking around!
Internet: chris@pluto.njcc.com
FN
P.O. Box 2554
Trenton, NJ 08690
