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Jonas E'Zine -- Volume 2, Number 1 -- Released April 2, 1996
Jonas is produced semi-regularly by Edicius (Tom Sullivan). Jonas
and the material therein are property of Edicius and Jonas Print Matter
Incorporated. Jonas may be freely distributed as long as this notice
remains in place, and there is no fee charged for its retrieval.
You can all just kiss off into the air
Behind my back I can see them stare
They'll hurt me bad but I won't mind
They'll hurt me bad they do it all the time
Violent Femmes / "Kiss Off"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jonas E'Zine Volume 2, Issue 2 May 3, 1996
Contents:
(1) - Edicius' Editorial
(2) - Tragic Death Calls For New Regulations (Essay) / by Edicius
(3) - Supernatural Powers (Story) / By Edicius
(4) - Reviews: Edicius' Opinions on EVERYTHING!
(5) - News Snippets
In memory - Mystery Science Theater 3000
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(1) - Edicius' Editorial
You thought Jonas was gone, didn't you? Ha ha! I tricked you! It was an
April Fools Day joke all along! Didn't you know? Silly.
No, not really.
If you are just tuning in, last issue I announced that Jonas and Slinky
e'zines were merging together to form Legacy e'zine. Well, due to our
unfortunate timing, things came up between the four editors, and together
we didn't really have the time/energy/means to start a new e'zine. So,
we've gone back to our respective 'zines (with Mindcrime, who was the only
one who didn't have a 'zine of his own beforehand, and had the time to
start a new one, starting a new 'zine.)
Phew. So here it is, your beloved Jonas.
----------
As far as the newsworthy material of this month, there is hardly any, as
normal.
We didn't merge.
The web site (http://www.cybercomm.net/~edi/jonas.html) has been updated
and changed somewhat. I added graphics! You can read the new issues
online! Get new news about Jonas.. _AND_ you can get up to the minute
news and weather!
(You think I'm kidding about the news and weather?)
I am starting a new guest column in Jonas. Since some of Jonas can be
considered personal (as in a personal/diary 'zine), I want to hear from
you. Each issue I will have (or at least hope to have) a different writer
write about their life. Currently titled "How I Got This Way", each
person will pull things from their own life that they think shaped the way
they are today.
I've been doing this with almost every issue. I am constantly relating
things from my life that made me how I am. Maybe it was the relentless
teasing that I endured through 7th and 8th grade, or the time I made an
ass out of myself in front of the whole school; everything you do, no
matter how trivial it can seem to be, shapes our life or shows a different
side of you.
So, pick up that keyboard. Write about your life. Tell the world (well,
not the _entire_ world) about your life. Tell us about the exciting
things that happen in your daily life. Tell us about the time someone
pulled your shorts down in gym class, and you weren't wearing underwear!
Don't be afraid, I haven't.
If you are really interested in doing this, email me. I will publish it
anonymously, if you would like. If I really see something really
fascinating about you, or I get a tremendous response to your column, I
may give you a column in every issue! Just think about that!
To prove exactly how _easy_ it is to write something like this, I will act
as your caring guide into this amazing jungle. I figure, no one will
write for this column is I don't have the guts to do it first.. So, here
it is. I am bearing my soul for one and all...
----------
It may seem silly, but everything that I am today -- my personality and
such -- can have it's origin traced back to one day. One day changed my
life forever, and made me who I am today. This day was in seventh grade.
Let me tell you about myself first.
I was born December 12, 1979. In grand ole' New York City. I moved to
the New Jersey shore around my first birthday. La de da, I lived in a
somewhat white trash neighborhood for my first 13 years.
The area was good. I always had somewhere to ride my bike to. I always
favored going on long bike rides, somewhere near the beach. I had this
routine down, basically. I would ride about 2 1/2 miles to this baseball
field near a marina. I don't know what it was about it, but there was
this one peach tree. Right off of the road, next to the outfield. Maybe
it was the way the wind blew in from the water, the view, or whatever.
But that place was my utopia, my refuge. I loved that place. Sometimes I
wish I could go back there.
Growing up, I was always one of the smarter kids. Never _the_ smartest,
but I always did good enough. A's and B's.. However, I was always the
oddball. I had relativity few friends. My habits were always different
from the other kids. I just didn't have the same interests. I didn't
like playing sports, so I would always read. I look through some of the
books that I used to read when I was in third grade, and I'm amazed. I
also really liked maps. I could tell you every state and it's capital
when I was in third grade. I read, read, and read more.
I wasn't really fat. Just a little chunky. I rode on my bike, on average,
about 2 miles a day, sometimes as much as 6. For a 10 year old, that's
pretty good. So, because of the bike riding, I had fairly strong legs.
Nothing incredible, but enough where I looked semi decent down there. The
rest of my body is hell. Pure flab. I dress around my body, so I don't
really show. I never go without wearing a shirt. Even if it's 100
degrees, and I'm out at a pool or the beach swimming, I wear a t shirt.
Granted, I do have very fair Irish skin, so I have an excuse.
Anyway, since I was moderately overweight, I dreaded recess. We would
play the same game every day- kickball. What a stupid sport that was.
Maybe if I was good, I would not have minded. But I sucked. I never
could hit the ball past the "infield." If I did, I couldn't run very
fast. Damn those fuckers that made it so competitive. I would have to go
through such torment after recess because I sucked at it so much.
For about half of the fifth grade, three other kids and myself would sit
in the corner of the playyard and play with matchbox cars. Just making
roads in the dirt, driving the cars around, and then getting teased
because we weren't playing kickball.
I could deal with the whole school thing until about seventh grade.
Granted, I had my fair share of times when I was spit on, thrown at with
rocks, and beat up. I just don't really see the need to go into them that
much right now. Maybe at a later date. To sum up my grades school life
up to and including sixth grade- I was an outcast, nerd, dork. Not really
liked.
Boy, if I thought I wasn't liked in those years, wait until I moved!
When I was twelve, my parents decided that it was time for us to move. We
had been renting this small house, with rent going up and three kids
getting older, we didn't need it anymore. So, we decided to move to a
"better" neighborhood, which included changing schools.
Luckily, the school in which I was going to, I had one of my friends in.
Well, one of the two people I could consider a friend at that point. He
had been a grade ahead of me in my old school, and failed one year, so he
was forced to repeat the year. At that school, however, if you failed
after fifth grade, you had to leave the school. So, in the long run, it
helped me there. He helped me make friends and stuff, but I killed that
after two weeks.
Let me tell you about this school, first. I went from a fairly
conservative school, to a majorly different school. My old school had
about 40 kids in my grade, this one had 90. The kids themselves were
different, too. Kids were already having sex, smoking pot, and drinking;
in the seventh grade. Needless to say, this was all new to me.
I wasn't warmly accepted, either. My natural shyness, combined with the
new environment and the less then warm attitudes of the kids made me really
nervous. Man, I really hated it. I wanted to go back to my old school,
really bad.
Then it happened. The day that changed my life forever. You wouldn't
believe how one incident can change your life. This incident did.
One day, only about two weeks into my new school, I wasn't feeling so
good. Kind of sick, and very nervous. I don't know what really happened,
I just shit myself. I was feeling a little queasy, but thought it was
something in passing. I thought that I could hold it. But it happened
anyway, right in the middle of history class.
It was not just a small thing, this was a big thing. It stunk up the
whole wing of the school. For the new kid to do that, it was a sin. At
first, no one really knew what it was. Then, when we switched classes,
and they saw the chair that I was in, well, then they knew what happened.
The ride home from school was hell. At that time I was taking a mini-bus
to school (I hadn't moved into my new home yet), and all four kids on the
bus sat in the front, while I was in the back.
Stage one -- Denial. I had a lot of people, obviously, come up to me and
ask me if I did. I of course denied it, and not being the creative genius
I am today, I said it was some smell coming from the radiators. Obviously,
no one bought it. All alone, by myself. Setting the precedent which
would remain to this day.
LIFE WAS FUCKING HELL. You don't know how many nights I cried myself
sleep. I had no friends. My best friend (the one I knew prior to
switching schools) hardly talked to me for awhile. I had insults thrown
at me from every direction. But I took it. I really had nothing to say
to them. I did it, I admitted it (to myself.) I just sunk lower and lower
into my desk, and didn't talk to anyone.
For the rest of the seventh grade year, I was insulted pretty bad. But
after awhile, they did calm down. Eight grade, I was insulted _really_
bad. My new nickname: "Sergeant Piles." It was really abbreviated, the
genius who thought it up named me "Sergeant Piles of Shit." The wounds
just dug deeper. I still don't look at my yearbook from that school. I
cry when I read what the kids wrote it in. For all I care, they can all
rot in a big vat in hell. Fucking assholes.
I looked forward to high school. I figured it would be a clean canvas. I
was wrong. The 30 kids from my school that went to my high school soon
told the other 90 kids about my deep dark past. The torments went on
every single day. Everything from the kids saying "Man, I gotta take a
shit" as they walked past me, to people just blatantly walking up to me
and saying "YOU CRAPPED YOUR PANTS."
Everything really hurt. I always thought that I was the one with the
problem. I felt like the grotesque outcast. I didn't think I really
belonged anymore. On several occasions I came very close to that suicide
point, but I never got the nerve to actually go through with it.
Then, over a period of time, it hit me. I'm not really the one with the
problem; they are. Why the hell should I feel embarrassed? It was
something that has happened three years ago. Should I feel ashamed
because they're bringing up old garbage? No. It got boring after awhile,
actually. Always the same insults. Never anything new. So tedious.
But when I reflect on the whole incident, I actually am thankful that it
happened. That one day, back in September of 1994, changed my life
forever. It made me the person whom I am today.
I am a substantially stronger person. Look, if you had those kinds of
insults being thrown at you every five minutes, wouldn't you grow a little
stronger in yourself after awhile? Yes, it sounds very contradictory, but
somehow, it all unravels itself, and I'm the benefice in the end. Sure,
I would have wasted everything if I had killed myself a long time ago, but
I didn't. I'm here now, and that's what matters.
I was able to see the flaws in other people. I'm not the only person with
a gross past. I saw the traits in other people. I'm very perceptive of a
person's personality. That helps me a lot today.
Hell, if you really want to read into it. If I hadn't become so lonely,
when I got that modem in eight grade, I may not have geeked out on the
computer as much, and may not be sitting here right now writing this.
How's that for fate?
One thing that always struck me, was something that one of my "friends"
said to me near the end of eighth grade.. We were talking, and he told
me, "Tom, just think. Right now, everyone knows you. Would you rather be
known, or a lonely nerd?" Well. He was right. Everyone did know me,
maybe not what I would want them to know me for, but they knew me
nonetheless.
The really weird thing about the situation, is the fact that I have really
only talked about it to kids that I went to school with at the time.
Friends of mine from outside the school, I don't know if they know or not.
For some strange reason, however, I'm telling hundreds of strangers right
now. A year ago, I would never have even thought about this; right now,
I'm bearing my soul to all.
It's odd how you can gain hope from what seems like the most humiliating
incidents. I'm glad I can.
See how it all goes back to that one day? I might write a subsequent
article to this, and go into detail about other aspects of my life. For
now, I'll leave it at this, hopefully I'll have other people writing this
'new' column. If you really want to hear more, you can always email me.
----------
See? If I had the guts to write that, with possible whiplash from
immature readers who may bring it back up in my face, I'm sure you can
write something like that too. C'mon, I know you can.
As always.. Read, enjoy, send your comments to me.
Have a nice day.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(2) - Tragic Death Calls For New Regulations - by Edicius
"We need to begin by acknowledging our own contribution ... We feed one
another: those of you looking for publicity and those of us looking for
stories." "whether we in the media ... by our ravenous attention
contribute to this phenomenon ... We did."
-- Ted Koppel on the questions posed by the death of Jessica Dubroff.
-----
The death of Jessica Dubroff shows us, as Americans, just how competitive
we can be. This case brings to light new age parental teachers, a lax
government organization, and an overzealous American bond.
If a seven year-old was out driving a Ford down the New Jersey Turnpike,
people would be afraid that she would cause an accident; when she's flying
across the country, she becomes a national hero. Why would the Federal
Aviation Administration allow this to go on, then?
Granted, flying a plane is actually much safer then driving a car. You
have more informational gauges, easier controls, and less objects to
contend with. In theory, a seven year old should be able to fly a plane,
but do they have the mental capabilities to actually do so?
When Jessica Dubroff left Half Moon Bay, California, on April 10, she set
out, along with her father, Lloyd, and her instruction, Joe Reid, to
become the youngest pilot to fly cross country. The Guiness Book of World
Records discontinued this category in 1989 to prevent a tragedy like this,
and "Flying" magazine refuses to acknowledge attempts like this because
they did not want to promote a stunt like this. J. Mac McClellan, editor
in chief of the magazine said, "It has no validity from an aviation
sense: the pilot in reality is the certified pilot." A certified pilot
has to be 16, and this Jessica was not.
One can debate the clause(s) that let Jessica fly. The FAA won't review
their stand on flying age for about six months. At that time, the
results from the crash investigation will be in, and we will be able to
see who was really at the controls.
The flight left from California and stopped at Cheyenne, Wyoming, before
continuing with the trip to Falmouth, Massachusetts, with one more stop to
refuel in Fort Wayne, Indiana. The landing in Cheyenne was tough. There
were strong crosswinds that made the plane wobble on it's approach. The
takeoff the next day was even tougher.
With an approaching thunderstorm, the winds were whipping around at the
speed of 25 to 30 mph, which would make a veteran pilot cease flight.
In a push to keep on schedule, Jessica's father opted to continue on.
In an interview before the takeoff, Jessica appeared as chipper as she was
supposed to seem. "I had two hours of sleep last night." As they were
taxing to the runway, Jessica spoke to her mother on a cellular phone and
said, "Mom, do you hear the rain?"
The plane took off, and was noticeably overweight. The thin mountain air
(Cheyenne is 6,156 ft. above sea level) is a factor that adds extra time
to the take off. Many pilots who are used to flying at low-levels don't
compensate for this fact, and wind up in the golf course at the end of the
runway. As the plane went through it's sluggish and shaky takeoff, the
people on board must have instantly realized a problem. Reid's arms were
more fractured then anyone's, which leads investigators to believe he had
control of the plane.
Jessica's parents typified the New Age idealism that makes people look
crazy and strung-out. She was born in a birthing tub without a doctor or
midwife present. Her parents kept her out of any formalized school,
because they saw the institution of school as being too restraining.
Instead of toys, they were giving tools to build their own furniture.
Jessica and her mother lived in a house without television.
Her parents believed that the child's bliss should guide them. They
allowed Jessica to do whatever she wanted. According to them, after
taking a flight on her sixth birthday, flying was what Jessica truly
wanted to do. The idea of the cross-country trek was her father's,
presented to her as "her choice."
Her father became the public relations director for the voyage. Printing
up specialty hats to remember the event, and making sure that the proper
media (tv, print, and radio) would be covering it. From the minute she
took off, the news covered every moment of it. They knew that if she made
it, it would become the typical uplifting American spirit story that would
make everyone feel better. If she crashed, just another accident to
lead off the newscast with.
The parents, the FAA, and the media: All part of a large chain that fed
off of each other. The parents "fostered" their childrens' development,
without holding back anything. The FAA allowed this to go on, without
taking the proper precautions. The media covered the story, added the
fuel that her parents needed to push Jessica even further.
If the media wasn't involved in this, it may never have happened. Why
else would her parents push her to do this? (Oh wait, I forgot. This is
something that she _wanted_ to do!) What would they get out of it all? A
few boasts here and there? Surely not enough to provoke a sane person to
do this. (Whoops. Talking about the Dubroffs, and I used the word
"sane"? Surely I jest.) It is just another in the line of parental
pressure that pushes children to the point of burnout.
When her mother, Lisa Blair Hathaway, visited the crash site in Cheyanne,
Wyoming, she placed flowers on the spot. A young boy came up to her, and
attempted to give her a teddy bear. Her response was that her children do
not play with toys.
This crash leads to many unanswered questions. This tragedy did not have
to happen, but it did. The only thing we can do is to prevent it from
happening again. That can only come through stronger regulations from the
FAA.
The FAA can change the rules, but we can't change parental zealousness.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(3) - Supernatural Powers - By Edicius
"If you could be any X-Man", Mike began to say to his friend John across
the lunch table, "who would you be? Would you rather be Banshee or
Wolverine?"
"Well", John began to reply, "that's a hard question. Banshee can fly at
the speed of sound, and Wolverine has those big claws. Plus, he can
reheal really quick. I would take Wolverine. You would get tired of
flying after awhile."
"True, but if you could have a super-power, wouldn't it be flying?"
"Not at all. If you're a superhero, you HAVE to fly. If you don't, well,
then you're not a superhero. I mean, did you ever see a superhero who
didn't fly? Superman, Spiderman, Wonderwoman; they could all fly through
the air, somehow."
"Well, what about Hulk?"
"Man, if you were that strong, would you want to fly?"
"I guess not.. Well, what would your power be?"
"I would take the ability to stop time. You know how great that would be?
I mean, you would be the smartest, wittiest, and awesomest person in the
world. A teacher calls on you in school, you can pause time, and do
research on the question. If someone insults you, stop time and think of
something really witty to say. If you don't like someone, embarrass them
by taking off their clothes! It would be so fun! So dominating! You
could walk across the ocean and go anywhere!"
"Well, not really. I mean, the water wouldn't be still, because the water
molecules have to move still. If the air molecules are moving, so are the
water ones. If the air molecules weren't able to be moved, then you
couldn't move in the frozen time. It just wouldn't work. In that case,
you would need to be able to fly.. You would need that to get over the
oceans and stuff."
"True, very true. But imagine the possibilities. All the free sex you
want!" He points his friend toward Janice, who was bending over to pick
up a sodacan that she dropped. "Take Janice for a second. Pretty,
well-endowed, and perky. You want to have sex with a girl like that. But
you could _never_ have sex with a girl like that. As she is in a position
like she is now, pause time, lift up the skirt, and have fun."
"Wow. Good idea. You wouldn't have to worry about viruses, because
they're a living organism, and henceforth would be inactive at the time
you had sex. If you got her pregnant, no one would know who it was that
impregnated her! Two months down the road she starts getting sick in the
morning! Oh the joy.. Hey, you could also go into a bank, stop time, and
take all the money, too!"
"But, my friend, you wouldn't need to. Why would you need money when you
can go into a store, stop time, and take everything you want without being
seen?"
"Well, yeah. But you need some money to make some of the 'purchases' look
legitimate."
"I guess."
"Wait.. We agreed that the air and water molecules would be moving,
right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, if they're moving, then what is suspending the planes in the air?
The fish in the water? Whats to keep everything up? You could kill
thousands at a time by crashing every plane at the same time. You could
plan it, really- 'You leave for Florida Friday at four? Uh.. Have a nice
and safe trip'", Mike said with a sinister laugh. "Really, where would
gravity be? You would just float into the air. It would defeat the whole
purpose of stopping time. When you would reactivate time, you would just
fall back to Earth when gravity kicks back in.. or, you would burn
instantly if you floated all the way to space."
"Good point. Man, stopping time sucks. I'd take flying now. Actually,
I'd take invisibility with the power to walk through walls, but that's
being a little picky."
"Picky? You want to know picky? I'd take the invisibility with wall
walking option, but I would also have the power to slip out of my body,
and allow my body to keep functioning normally. Then I could slip into
someone elses'' body, and control them."
"Just take mind-control in that regard."
"I guess.. Hey, who would you rather be, Spiderman or Wonderwoman?"
"I'd be Wonderwoman. I would fuck saving the world and play with myself
all day."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(4) - Reviews: Edicius' Opinions on EVERYTHING!
Concert: Brutal Juice/Civ/Toadies - Stone Pony, Asbury Park, NJ - April 27
When I first heard that Civ was playing in my area, over a month ago, I
knew that I was going to that show. Over the course of a month, I had
about 18 different rides fall through on me. It wasn't until about 2:00
AM, the day of the show, that I had a definite ride.
I went to the show with fellow 'zinesters Mindcrime, Belial, and Lucifer.
We went there planning on buying tickets at the door. Unfortunately, a lot
of other people did too, and it was sold out when we got their.
Mindcrime and Belial didn't really feel like scalping tickets, but Lucifer
and myself did. Unfortunately, no one had extra tickets. One of my
friend's friend would have an extra ticket, but she didn't show up for
awhile. The bouncer at the door told me that in twenty minutes, he would
sell Lucifer and myself tickets for $20. The tickets went for $12.50, $15
with Ticketmaster charges, but we were willing to pay it. However, we
didn't have to wait, some guy had two extra tickets for $15 each.
We get in, and after finding our way to a reasonably good spot, we waited.
Waited, and waited, and waited. After about 30 minutes (over an hour
since the doors first opened), the first band comes on. The band was
Brutal Juice, whom I never heard of before, and didn't know what they
would be like.
They were actually really good. They turned out to be a pretty decent
punk band. Touring in support of their Interscope Records release,
entitled _Mutilation Makes Identification Difficult_, they played their
current single "Ugly on the Inside." After a few more dates with the
Toadies, they tour with Gwar in May.
The crowd got into this one. A pretty intense mosh pit, with dozens of
crowd surfers. The lead singer of Brutal Juice came out during their last
song and hung from the water pipe that ran just over the crowd. Needless
to say the bouncers were pissed. There was one fight which was cause by a
dickhead. The guy had the nerve to kick and hit someone after they fell
in the middle of the pit. It was quickly ended.
I promised Lucifer that I'd interject in my review that as he was getting
water between the Brutal Juice and Civ sets, a really hot girl was hitting
on him.
Next came the crowd favorite, Civ.
Near the end of the Brutal Juice set, I made sure that I made my way up to
front for the Civ set. If my past experiences with the band told me
anything, they told me that the place would erupt the second Sammy started
to pound on those drums. The place did when the first few notes of
"United Kids" were heard.
Playing songs from their Lava Records release, _Set Your Goals_, Civ
filled the air for about an hour with many socially uplifting messages.
Both during and between songs. Before their song, "Don't Got to Prove
It", Civ (the lead singer of the same-named band) said, "This song goes
out to everyone .. if you want to be a punk, a skinhead, a metalhead ..
whatever you want to be .. if you want to be a freak .. if anyone says
anything, fuck them."
Playing all of the songs on their CD, including "Can't Wait One Minute
More", "Choices Made", "State of Grace", and the title track, "Set Your
Goals", they also played a new song called "Social Climber." This song
was about the "very beautiful, very fabulous .. and the very annoying.
The kind I [Civ] fucking hate."
As always, the pit was incredible. During "So Far.. So Good.. So What",
the place erupted into a monster circle pit and hundreds doing the pogo.
Civ was constantly near the crowd. He didn't let the gate in front of the
stage stop him, either. He used the water pipes and lighting hanging over
the front of the stage to his advantage and constantly hung over the
crowd. When one crowd surfer almost hit him as he was singing, Civ
quickly said, "Hey, nice to see you up here."
The headliner of the night came on next. The Toadies are currently
touring in support of their current CD, _Rubberneck_. They were really
good, attracting a very diverse crowd age-wise. They played for nearly an
hour and a half.
I'm going to totally skip over the rest of the Toadies set. Mainly
because at the beginning of the set, I got knocked over in the pit, and a
400 pound guy fell on me. Luckily I was picked up before (too many)
people stepped on me. After that, I just slam danced and pogoed my way
across the floor, into the back of the club, and took a seat for awhile.
I did go back in, but I never did get into the Toadies' set too much.
They played really good, however. I guess if I had known more about them
before the show, I would have had fun.
Now, as I'm sitting here the next day, I see that I have something that
really looks like a bite mark on my wrist. I have no idea how that got
there. Eerie.
eZINE: Doomed to Obscurity - Issue Nine
For almost nine months now, Doomed to Obscurity has been releasing very
large issues. Many different writers with many different articles. The
last few issues prior to issue nine have been alittle less then what you
would expect from them, quality wise. This issue they changed that.
I really enjoyed this issue. They changed the layout, with one of the
editors, Eerie, working on it this time. That was a nice sight. Also,
they had some really great articles. My personal favorites were Styx's
"Sliced and Diced Hookers in a Ziplock Bag", Mogel's "My Belly", Morpheus'
"Video Games Stole My Childhood", and as always, all of Eerie's work.
The rest of the issue was good. The only things I didn't like were James
Hetfield's opening article called "Girls Can't Write", and Creed's "A
Multi-Cultural Spectrum of Anger." Dead Cheese's 'ascii toon' wasn't so
good, either.
You contact DTO at their web site, http://www.thirdwave.net/~dto, or by
emailing them at doomed@voicenet.com.
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(5) - News Snippets - Compiled by Edicius
From the Middletown [NJ] Independent, 5/1/96:
_Boy Injured in Explosion_
(By Eileen Koutnik, Staff Writer)
ABERDEEN-- An 11-year old boy was seriously injured last week while trying
to make an explosive using gunpowder, wire, a battery pack, and an
electrical switch, police said.
The boy and at least two other boys -- one aged 12 and the other 14 -- were
at the victim's Cedar Place home in Cliffwood Beach section when the
accident occured at about 3:30 pm April 22.
They removed the gunpowder from shotgun shells, and tried to assemble an
explosive, police said.
The 11-year old suffered burns to his chest and the right side of his face.
He was airlifted to St. Barnabas Medical Center, Livingston Township and
released from the hospital April 25, a hospital spokeswoman said.
Lt. John Powers said police recovered the shotgun shells on the property,
but are still looking into where they came from.
Police said the victim was closest to the explosive when it exploded in the
living room of his house. The other boys were not injured.
One of the boys said they were inspired by the movie, "The Specialist,"
according to Powers. Powers did not know if they boys were being
supervised by an adult.
Charges are pending and will be filed in family court against the boys
involved, Powers said.
Aberdeen Police Detective Michael Vacaro and Detective Robert Mazur from
the New Jersey State Police are investigating.
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From the Middletown [NJ] Independent, 5/1/96, Letters to the Editor,
_Local Boys Did the Right Thing_
On April 13, I was notified by several young boys that they had located a
bag of drugs. The three young boys, Michael Guadian, Stephen Woodford and
Joeseph Walling waited at the scene and kept the item in sight until our
arrival. Althought the bag turned out the more tobacco than narcotic,
there was trace elements of marijuana in it.
According to Detective Stephen Wheeler, the course of action taken by the
youths was textbook according to what is taught in the DARE program. At
the minimum, the youngsters reconized the item for what it was --
potentially dangerous -- and they made a very good decision.
The detectives in this bureau would like to commend Michael Gaudian,
Stephen Woodford and Joseph Walling for th epositive actions they took on
April 13. Congratulations guys, you did a good job!
Kevin J. Cassidy
Detective
Keyport Detective Bureau
Bayshore Narcotics Task Force
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Jonas e'Zine Issue Seventeen
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