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flc-007
(startfile 14.46.25 11.11.96)
Neko's welcome
--------------
So. I'm in Russia. I have net access. Phear me. I'm rather pissed. All I
asked of any of you was to send me a mix tape. Considering when I make a
90 minute mix tape it takes about 3 hours, I only asked for 3 hours of
your time. Not a whole lot, right? Guess how many people sent me one? No
one. I printed my address in the last few issues of flc and on every
outbound email message in the last weeks I was at home. How many letters
have I received from my 'friends' back home? Four. Two were rather
surprising. The first letter from a 'friend' I got was from Paula. You all
remember her, right? I wrote a lot about her. I wouldn't have expected to
get a letter from her. The second letter I got was from Kelly. I don't
know Kelly very well and it surprised me she wrote. The other two letters
I got were in response to letters I wrote to them. Now that I have email,
however, I get 10 letters a day. What makes you all so fucking lazy? This
really pissed me off. Oh well.
Paka
John
Index
-----
01 ... Neko's welcome
02 ... RV
03 ... August 26th, 1996
04 ... Remember Dayton
05 ... August 28th, 1996
06 ... Incorrect
07 ... August 29th, 1996
08 ... The End of the World
09 ... August 30th, 1996
10 ... My Pissed Off Rant Where I Say Fuck Alot
11 ... August 31st, 1996
12 ... Shameless Plug for Chrysalis
13 ... September 1st, 1996
14 ... CR/LF Interview
15 ... September 2nd, 1996
16 ... Alex' Adventures in Wonderland
17 ... September 3rd, 1996
18 ... Correct
19 ... 4 September, 1996
20 ... Hasta
RV
--
Jeff relaxed in his virtual chair, turning his virtual TV on to the
virtual news channel.
After the virtual reporter finished talking about all the virtual
killing in the virtual world, Jeff decided that there was too much virtual
violence on virtual television news.
Turning the virtual TV off, Jeff got out of his virtual chair and
stood up, almost hitting his virtual head on the virtual ceiling.
Jeff decided to take a virtual walk around the virtual block. On this
walk, Jeff saw a beautiful virtual female. He decided to bring her back to
his virtual home and get her virtually drunk and have virtual sex with
her.
Jeff woke up the next morning with a virtually painful hangover and
saw his virtual condom wadded up on the floor, still with some virtual
semen in it. He looked next to him and saw that the virtual female was no
longer there.
"Shit," he wondered. "Did I have virtual sex or did I just have a
virtual fantasy and virtually masturbate myself?"
His virtual question was quickly answered by a loud banging on his
virtual door. "Open up, this is the Virtual Police!"
Jeff let out a virtual groan, rolled out of his virtual bed and
opened the virtual door.
"You are under virtual arrest for the virtual rape of Miss -----
-----"
"Ahh, so that's the virtual bitch's name," Jeff thought, letting a
virtual smile cross his face.
The virtual police took Jeff straight to the virtual jail, without
passing virtual Go, without collecting virtual $200. After all, it was
obvious what Jeff's virtual actions had been.
---
Sitting in his prison cell, Jeff removed the VR helmet and hugged his
cellmate, Bubba. "Thank GAWD it was only a virtuality!" Jeff cried into
his lover's arms.
August 26th, 1996 -- 9.00pm
---------------------------
The first entry. I have been "gone" for nearly a week, so I think I should
write about the events so far. It was not as hard to say goodbye as I
thought it would be. I didn't cry until the flight to New York. On it, I
had intermittent sobbing sprees. It just hit me last Monday I was eating
with my friends at Beef-A-Roo. Kind of like it hits me dailt that I AM IN
RUSSIA. In New York I became acquainted with the other 'participants' from
America going to Russia and the other parts of the World. A guy from Ohio,
Ryan Gable, is staying in a small town just outside of Tver. I met a girl
there named Caty from Texas going to Germany. I knew she was cool because
she shared Angie's birthday. Thursday night we flew out of New York at
5:50PM. I was between two older woman -- one from Arizona (near Grandma
Jan) and the other from Albequerque. It was a good flight. The flight
attendents were cool. One commented on my reading material --
Trainspotting (the best movie ever) as well as my shirt -- The Clash
"London Calling" (Check out Sandinista). The flight also had a movie
screen that displayed our flight path. When it said we were over Tver, I
jumped out of my seat and ran to Ryan, ecstatic that we were over "our"
city. Once we landed, it took about 90 minutes to go through customs.
After going through customs and picking up our baggage, we were met by AFS
Russia's volunteers and staff. They took us to a hotel outside of Moscow.
It was nice, but it only had cold water. We had to stay awake until all
the AFSers arrived, then we had an opening campfire and everyone
introduced themselves. The next afternoon, we (me, Ryan, Susanna Kruse
from Germany, and an AFS volunteer from Tver) took a train from Moscow to
Tver. We arrived at about 10 to 7 and we found our families about 45
minutes or so later. Ryan's family didn't show up so he came home with me.
Dmitry gave up his bed for him. Russian people are very kind. They
insisted that they carry our bags. The next day, we toured the city. A few
hours after we finished, Ryan's family came. Then we ate dinner. As for
food, I find it falls into three categories: excellent, edible, and
utterly repulsive. An example of each is most desserts, most everything
else, and sour milk, respectively. After dinner, I gave my family their
gifts. I think they liked them. After dinner, Katya, who Dmitry told me
was his sister, came over. She is 16 and spent 6 months in America and
speaks excellent English. She told me I could use her phone to call home.
So, this morning, I called home and was shortly called back. After talking
for awhile, Dmitry and I went to a bank to exchange money. After waiting
90 minutes, we just exchange with another woman. Then we went to the
Computer Center and paid 10,000 rubles to play games for an hour. We came
home and I had some time to myself in which I slept. That reminds me, I
have been feeling puking-sick all day. Every time I eat, my stomach jumps
through hoops. Once I get used to the differences in food, I'm sure I'll
love it.
Remember Dayton
---------------
I was sitting in my backyard talking with my friends when I suddenly
realized that one of them had killed a man. I couldn't live with this
terrible secret any longer. I excused myself and went inside. I told my
mother the whole story and asked her to call the police.
The next thing I remember is that I was in police custody. My
murderous friend was a friend of the police. Apparently he got off
scot-free because of this. The cops repeatedly told me to remember Dayton.
Somehow I escaped these bad cops. I ran away and found a different
set of cops. I told them my story. They told me to get in the car and
they'd do something about it. I got in and they told me to remember
Dayton. Then they told me that I knew too much and they were going to get
rid of me by sending me to Argentina.
At the airport they told me that no one could know what was going on.
Fine by me! The sooner I got away, the better. Then, on our way down the
escalator, I saw a lot of my friends coming up the neighboring escalator.
I tried to signal them to keep quiet and ignore me, but to no avail. One
after the other, they all said, "Hi, John!" and asked what I was doing. My
captors didn't like this and took all my friends hostage.
Then we were all together in a toy store in a mall. The storefront
gate was down over the entrance even though the rest of the stores were
open. This was our prison.
There was a rear entrance to the toy store. Through it we could get
out and wander around the mall. For some reason, we didn't use it to
escape.
Finally someone figured out how to raise the front gate. A plan for
escape was hatched! Immediately we opened the gate and created a diversion
by throwing toys everywhere. We escaped successfully and then I woke up.
---this really was, for the most part, based on a dream i had---
August 28th, 1996 -- 20:31
--------------------------
This is the same thing that always used to happen to me when I kept a
diary -- all day long I could think of things to write, then forget them
all as I put pen to paper. Last night, there was some sort of AFS meeting.
I saw Ryan again. His family appears to be very rich and he is living
quite a different life than I am. Today, I went to my school and
registered. My 5 classes are: English, Russian, History, Algebra &
Computers. Sounds like very few credits will be transferring. Since coming
home, I have spent most of the day reading. 300 pages so far. My host
father told me that he wished I would not be lonely. <sigh> Homesickness
hitting already? I played checkers with my host father today. Russians
have different rules and he beat me. I taught him American rules and he
beat me again. And again. Now I am home alone and am wondering what to do.
Incorrect
---------
The first 14 years of my life I was raised as a Presbyterian. I went
to church when it was demanded of me, and, of course, I hated it.
When I was 14, I was confirmed as a member of Westminster
Presbyterian Church. I took this to mean I was now given certain religious
freedoms, for example, telling my parents that I didn't want to go to
church. After all, I was a member, and don't members get to decide things
for themselves?
This new theory of mine didn't work out very often. Usually we just
ended up screaming and shouting at each other, which is rather odd, if you
think of it. Christianity is a religion which preaches love for our fellow
man. So what if I don't want to go to church? Is it a sin? Jesus, whether
he existed or not, died for my sins, so what difference does it make?
When I entered high school I started to be exposed to whole different
ways of life. I was offered drugs for the first time, I had my first
sexual experience, and I seriously thought about religion. At first I
couldn't decide whether or not God really existed. I guess at that point I
was an Agnostic. I doubted the existence of God, but had no reason for my
belief.
In my sophomore year, there was a point that I declared that I
believed there was a God. However, I quickly forgot my reasons for it.
Also in my sophomore year, I joined the Unitarian Universalist Church.
Through this church I was exposed to a whole new view on spirituality.
Since coming to Russia I have decided that there is not a God and I
am now trying my hardest to be an Atheist. My reasoning behind my belief
is as such:
1) If God loves everyone, why would he ever introduce anything
painful into our lives? Why isn't everything perfect?
2) If there is a God, that pretty much means our lives have already
been planned out and that anything we do is His will. Therefore, my
disbelief is the will of God.
3) If Jesus died for my sins, and disbelief is a sin, then I have
nothing to worry about.
4) I can't subscribe to any system of beliefs that have been
responsible for so much death. (I don't believe in government for the same
reason).
If you have religious beliefs, I truly respect you. I respect you for
being much stronger than me -- you can place trust in something that has
no proof of existence. I respect those of you who truly believe. I respect
those of you who do not try to convert every non-Christian out there. I
respect those of you that respect me.
August 29th, 1996 -- 21.29
--------------------------
Today, Dima and I went to his "country village". (some sort of summer home
with a humongous garden). Here I met his babushka(?) (grandmother). She
seems very nice. I can't wait until I know enough Russian to talk to
someone. I played checkers with my father tonight and actually beat him.
Of course, he showed me where to make that crucial move... In Russia there
most not be a phrase for "I am full / I am not hungry / Please stop
feeding me" because they absolutely will not stop feeding me. If I say I
am not hungry, I am soon upgraded to being hungry a little, and eating.
When the food falls into category one: great! However, it too often falls
into categories 2 and 3.
The End Of The World
--------------------
"I wouldn't touch you if you were the last man on Earth," Arcana
remembered telling Rubert back in the 7th grade -- nearly 15 years ago.
Problem was, now Rubert actually was the last man on Earth. The rest
had been wiped out in the great plague of 98.
It had been 10 long years on planet Earth without a single child
being born. For 10 years the world leaders had been asking -- no, begging
Rubert to have sex with someone -- for the good of the human race. But
Rubert refused -- he only wanted Arcana.
In 10 years, Rubert had gone through many tests. All found that he
was not impotent, but recent tests showed that his sperm count was
dwindling.
Impassioned pleas were made by everyone from Tipper Gore to Madonna
for Rubert to give up on Arcana and have sex with one of the billions of
fertile women in the world. It was the only time in recorded history when
an average 98 pound weakling was dubbed People Magazine's "Sexiest Man
Alive" 10 years running.
On the opposite end of the scale, Arcana was equally adamant about
not having sex with Rubert. As selfish an act as it was, Arcana felt she
had good reason to deny Rubert. In the 7th grade, while Rubert was
supposed to be reading the morning announcements over the school's
loudspeaker, he instead declared his love for Arcana. In mere seconds
Arcana went from budding socialite to social outcast. She never forgave
Rubert.
One night in mid-June Arcana was watching the Tonight Show -- Live!
with Rick Lake before going to sleep. Ricki hushed the crowd and told them
they were going to have a special, unannounced guest. Arcana was excited.
She couldn't remember Ricki ever doing this before -- not even for that
girl who turned out to be Macarena. Then she was sickened when Rubert
walked out to thounderous applause and shouts of, "I want to have your
baby!"
Rubert greeted Ricki with a kiss and promptly took his seat. Clueing
her audience in to the reason Rubert was there, Ricki said, 'Rubert, do
you have a special announcement for us tonight?"
Rubert's quick response was, "I sure hope so!" The table next to
Rubert rose and a telephone was revealed. The audience fell silent -- what
was Rubert going to do?
Rubert picked up the receiver and dialed.
In Arcana's nice apartment (located a convenient 2 blocks from Jay
Leno Memorial Theater, where the Tonight Show was taped) the phone rang.
"It must be a coincidence," she thought. "Please God, let it be a
coincidence. Don't let him do it to me again." The second ring -- echoed
on TV. "Hello?" Arcana cautiously whispered into the phone. To her
disappointment she heard her voice echoed on the TV.
"It's me, Rubert!" Rubert proudly proclaimed, to much applause.
Arcana was just about to reply with a caustic, "What do you want?"
but her selfishness revealed an opportunity to her. She realized that the
quickest way to regain social approval would be to say, "Yes!"
"Yes?!?!" echoed Rubert, in disbelief.
"yEs!?!?!?" echoed the studio audience with a glimmer of hope.
"Yes!!!" Arcana's statement of approbal drew thounderous applause
from the studio audience. Women around the country rejoiced. The news was
quickly sprad around the world to much rejoicing.
"I'll be right there!" shouted the ecstatic Rubert.
The remote camera crew (now broadcasting worldwide) followed Rubert
for his two block walk. The plan was to tape the act of conception.
Rubert, the camera crew, and a large crowd stopped at the last corner
before crossing the street to Arcana's apartment building. Rubert was so
excited that for once he ignored the flashing "Don't Walk" sign and
crossed the street.
5 steps before reaching the opposite curb, a VW bug screeched around
the corner and hit Rubert hard, effectively killing him.
The gathered crowd entered into riot mode and chased the car for two
blocks before catching up and stopping it. They dragged the driver out and
beat her to death.
Newspaper articles later confirmed the popular rumor that R.E.M.'s
early 80's hit, "The End Of The World," was playing on the car stereo.
August 30th, 1996 -- 21.43
--------------------------
Spent 4 hours at what Dima told me was his future flat. I met my paternal
host grandparents, and aunt. I also discovered that Katya, Dima's "sister"
is actually his cousin. Apparently, cousin and sister are very similar
words. I watched a Russian cop movie. Played checkers and lost all three
times. Never before have I met anyone who plays checkers using skill. I
wrote a letter to Natalie and addressed it in Russian. Tomorrow I think I
will try to learn how to send it.
My Pissed Off Rant Where I Say Fuck Alot
----------------------------------------
Hey. Fuck you. Fuck your apathy. Take the easy way out, as always.
Why does it seem that I'm the only one? Surely someone else cares. Oh,
yeah. You SAY you care, but when it comes down to it, you're just like all
the rest. Only me, wearing the veil of the apathetic slacker, will
succeed. They threatened our school. I hate school, but my school is
important enough to me to defend it from a fate worse than death. I tried
to organize a protest. ONE FUCKING PERSON was interested in action.
Everyone else was worried about missing class. Fuck you, for your
inaction, we won't HAVE a class to go to. Go kill yourself. Your hypocrisy
doesn't deserve to live.
Don't fucking tell me lies. I am stupid enough to fall for it once,
but it gets tiring after that. You're all liars. If you can't do
something, say it. Don't lie. I'm trying to save you from a fate worse
than death. Fuck off and let me preach my moral code.
Fuck authority. Your parents are wrong. You know it. They know it. Do
something about it. Your school is your personal hell. Drop out. Make an
effort to change it. I can't fucking stand to hear you whine when you're
not doing a fucking thing to change your situation. If you try and fail,
try again. Do what's right for you. Don't conform to anyone's
expectations. And if you've got to use more drugs than the members of any
popular rock group to achieve your goal, go for it -- You're the
antichrist, right?
So fuck it all. You probablu didn't read this far. This was poorly
written. I wonder if I'd be scared to meet another Me. I wonder what I'd
do if I met a female Me. It'd obviously be a love or hate instantly, but
which. Oh fuck it all. I'm a bigger hypocrite than you.
August 31st, 1996 -- 19.36
--------------------------
I haven't slept well any night, but last night was the worst. I didn't
fall asleep until after midnight (I went to bad at 22.00) and I know I
woke up at least once before I got up at 8.30. I went for a walk all by
myself today. As I was about to leave the house with my mother to send my
letter, my father came home and we went to my uncle's flat for an hour and
a half. At least dinner wasn't bad. I've been in Tver for a week now and I
know a whole lot more Russian than I did before arriving. However, this
still amounts to very little Russian. Last night around 21.00, Dima went
to his grandmother's to "help with potatoes". Haven't seen him since. Last
Sunday, Katya and her mother came over. I wonder if this is a weekly
occurence. I hope so.
Shameless Plug for Chrysalis (by Dylan)
---------------------------------------
chrysalis.chrysalis.chrysalis.chrysalis.chrysalis.chrysali
<(815)965-7034>
Chrysalis? Yes, Chrysalis. Chrysalis is the hippest new thing since
polyester pants and wide collars! "It's more fun than fat sweaty
people!", said one overwhelmed and astonished caller. Another was quoted
as saying "Chrysalis is more fun than Welfare Simulation"! How could you
doubt it? Why, Chrysalis is even An Official FLC Smorgasboard of Good
Fellowship! that's right, charming children, lovely ladies, and handsome
gentlemen! so, don't be a
___________
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
-----------
Call Chrysalis today! That number once again is (815)965-7034! call!
chrysalis.chrysalis.chrysalis.chrysalis.chrysalis.chrysali
September 1st, 1996 -- 20.09
----------------------------
Dima came home for about 15 minutes last night and gave me the option of
going to his country village with his mother or staying home today. I went
to the country village and helped harvest potatoes. Then I slept for about
2 hours. When we came home, I shaved and showered. Then, my family and I
went to my father's friend Sasha's house to celebrate Sasha's birthday. I
ate so much -- I am so stuffed right now. No Katya tonight -- vists must
be random. School starts tomorrow -- I don't think I'm ready.
funky llama club interview with CR/LF frontman John Heisel
----------------------------------------------------------
flc: So, how did CR/LF come into existence?
JH: Well, you see, one day last year at school, me, Mike [Freding] and
Darius [McCaskey] were eating lunch outside. We thought it would be pretty
funny if there was a band called, "Your Favorite Band Sucks." Then we
decided we'd write a song with that same title. We decided that it was so
easy to write songs, we'd form a group. We wrote 5 other songs that day
(Trent Reznor is Gay, Dairy Ass, Soft-Core Porn, The Grass is Always
Greener During An Appendectomy and 20 Seconds). These six tracks will
probably appear on our first EP, "funk as puck."
flc: How did you decide on the name CR/LF?
JH: Originally, we were going to call ourselves The 10-Inch Green
Erections or something like that, but we changed it to CR/LF because we're
all geeks and because we didn't think our mothers would approve of us
being in a band called the 10-Inch Green Erections.
flc: Isn't that selling out?
JH: Well, umm, yeah.
flc: Do the letters CR/LF mean anything?
JH: In actuality, no. They mean anything. Like everything else, we make it
up as we go. My favorite is Cops Rape Lovely Females.
flc: So, how did your brother get involved in CR/LF?
JH: Well, initially CR/LF wasn't much more than a joke. Then when I came
to Russia, I had a dream in which punk rock legend Jon Spencer came to me
and told me he wanted to sign my band. At that point, I knew we had to get
serious about our music. I finalized the lineup by putting Scott [Heisel]
on drums, Mike on guitar, and Darius on bass. I still don't know if Darius
owns a bass, though.
flc: So, do you actually believe that Jon Spencer will sign CR/LF and make
you famous?
JH: Yes.
flc: Rumor has it that a tribute song has already been written about
CR/LF. What's up with that?
JH: Well, after eating lunch that fateful day, I passed our lyric sheet
around my analytical geometry class. One girl, Katie Flanagan, was so move
by our insightful lyrics, she wrote a tribute song that was longer than
most of our songs combined. The chorus went something like this: "It's
Johnny's Song/It's Johnny's Song/It sucks/It's crap/And it's all wrong."
We're thinking about having it as a hidden track on our EP.
flc: You sure do tout this EP a lot for a band who has never played
together and may not have a bassist.
JH: Shut up. Jon Spencer came to me in a dream. This is reality. I'm outta
here (author's note: He said this like the character Doug on the State)
flc: Well, folks, I guess that's it. Be sure to check out CR/LF's debut EP
"funk as puck" if it is ever released by the soon-to-be-formed AssFace
Records.
September 2nd, 1996 -- 21.57
----------------------------
Today was the first day of school. in a way. There was some sort of
opening ceremony and that was all. Tonight at the school there was a
disco. I went -- in a sense. The entire school building was open, and when
I arrived, my companions and I went to a history classroom to talk. I
stayed there the whole night, letting my classmates practice their English
and ask my questions. I like all this attention, but I wonder if I am
receiving it simply because I am a novelty. I did, however, receive a few
inquiries, from females no less, as to whether or not I had a girlfriend.
I said no, but I think that this produces an interesting dilemma. Do I
have some sort of obligation, albeit unspoken, to Angie? Knowing me, I
don't think I'll ever be in a situation where this dilemma will come into
play. Also knowing me, I'll never discover whether or not I should have an
obligation to Angie.
Alex' Adventures in Wonderland
------------------------------
Once there was this guy.
For the sake of the story, let's call him Alex.
Alex went to a club.
Nothing significant happened at this club. Kinda makes me wonder --
why did I even bother to mention this club? It's not like anything
determining the outcome of Alex' life happened there. Or did it? Is human
nature such that every event, no matter how small and insignificant, has
an effect on the outcome of our life? It could be. After all, Alex
could've gone for a walk this evening and gotten shot. But no -- he went
to the club. Where is the significance here? Perhaps the lack of
significance is important. You see, everywhere Alex goes he is followed by
hundreds of people, for he is a famous movie star. So the fact that no one
followed him to the club and that not one thing of significance happened
to him at the club is significant.
Alex decided that since his trip to the club was so insignificant, he
would leave. Alex had walked about 100 feet before he was robbed and shot.
Now Alex encountered one of the most significant events in his life --
Death.
Death embraced Alex with open arms. Alex, however, was reluctant to
return this embrace. He was quite certain that nothing significant could
happen to him from beyond the grave and requested that Death allow him to
return to Earth where he might be able to experience significance. Death
shrugged it's shoulders and complied.
Alex decided that since his trip to the club was so insignificant, he
would leave. Alex had walked about 100 feet before he was robbed and shot.
Now Alex encountered one of the most significant events in his life --
Death.
Death embraced Alex with open arms. Alex, however, was reluctant to
return this embrace. He was quite certain that nothing significant could
happen to him from beyond the grave and requested that Death allow him to
return to Earth where he might be able to experience significance. Death
shrugged it's shoulders and complied.
Alex decided that since his trip to the club was so insignificant, he
would leave. Some people never learn.
September 3rd, 1996 -- 20.08
----------------------------
Midway through the day, I was willing to write today off as the worst day.
It started out with a train ride into the country. The second day of
school, it seems, is a day of picnic in a country forest. People spoke
English and joked with me on the train, making it an enjoyable ride. Once
we arrived and found a place to sit it was still enjoyable -- people spoke
English and joked with me. Then, rather abruptly, I felt ignored and
alone. I was not being spoken too, the talking was all in Russian.
Eventually, I broke out a book and started reading it. I decided to take a
walk across the open area. Midway through my intended path, Patrizia, a
pretty girl who had the job of translating for me yesterday, called out to
me and asked if I would like to meet her friends. I said ok, and did. We
talked for awhile -- mostly the 3 girls did, in Russian. Then Patrizia and
I walked to where I had previously been reading. I resumed this activity
and she walked away. Save for a few minor interruptions, this is how I
spent most of the rest of the day. At one point I got up, put my backpack
on and started to walk away. This worried a teacher, but I explained to
her that I was just going for a walk. As I walked on, the principal called
out to me. I told him I was just going for a walk and he told me not to go
too far. When my walk was over, it was time to go. Back at the country
train stop, a girl who I didn't recall meeting, but who knew me
nonetheless, Katya, called out to me and introduced me to her friends.
Here is where the day starts to pick up again. Our group rode the train
back together. Katya requested -- no, demanded -- that I ride with her.
How could I say no? On completely unrelated notes, I have heard more
planes fly overhead today than I remember hearing in all the time I've
spent here. More unrelated stuff: my father cut the dog's hair -- by
pulling each tuft out. Surprisingly, there was not a peep from the dog.
Correct
-------
God exists.
After living the past year as an atheist, and spending the last four
months in a country where atheism was *IT* for 75 years, I have found God.
My God is probably not your God, however. Let me explain a few things
about my God.
God is a woman. I know this because the world is full of beauty. The
most beautiful things that I know of are women, and newborn babies. One
leads to the other. I surmise, therefore, the a woman must have created
the world. Look at this, too. A lot of men beat their wives. A lot more
men destory the world in various ways, shapes, and forms. Could it be that
men were just placed here to admire beauty and then destroy it?
God hears your prayers. She just doesn't choose to answer them all.
She doesn't randomly pick and choose, either. If you are in a situation
where you truly need divine help, she will intervene. However, if you are
just praying for an A on your Math Quiz tomorrow, she will not grant it,
because it is in your power to change this.
God is value neutral. She does not respect the concepts of good and
evil. If pleasure is derived from an activity, then it is right.
Everyone, regardless of their beliefs in this mortal world, will
spend time with God after they die. Then they will be reincarnated on
Earth or another world and given chances to live life again. Experience
new things. Make a change for the better.
Quite a change, eh?
4 September, 1996 -- 20.39
--------------------------
Today was the first day of classes at school. My schedule, it turns out,
was this: Russian Literature, Computers, Geometry, Physics, English. My
English teacher is ecstatic to have an American in her class. I complained
to my English teacher that I had already taken geometry. She said that I
would just have to bear it for this week, and maybe next week I can devise
a schedule more to my liking. Perhaps I can place myself in the 11th form,
graduate, and be done with school! It is unclear, however, whether or not
my teachers expect me to do homework. It is also unclear as to whether
they know I'm an American. Interesting things: The teachers started
*TEACHING* on the first day of school -- that rarely happens in America.
In between classes there is a 10-minute break. You can go to the cafeteria
and buy pastries and candies (it seems). I tried to call the tutor Jenny
Wilson recommended -- Katya -- but there was no answer. I was told that
there is another AFS meeting tomorrow. I can't wait to see Ryan again.
Hasta
-----
Actually, I should've said, paka, because it's Russian for bye. Stupid me.
Oh well. To quote Tool: "Some say the end is near // Some say we'll see
Armageddon soon // Certainly hope we will // I sure could use a vacation".
Yeah. So. I actually *wrote* all this. Yeah. Send me mail. Remember,
snailmail is always preferable to electronic crap. John Heisel //
Chaykovsky Avenue 44/3-41 // Tver 170002 // Russia. flc is available for
ftp at the following sites:
ftp.openix.com/ftp/phorce/flc
scout.chemia.pk.edu.pl/pub/zines/flc
and at Chrysalis, 815-965-7034.
And of course, my new contact address is neko@tversu.ac.ru. blah.
(endfile 15.48.07 20.12.96)
