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M00se Droppings Issue 45
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A-M00SE-ING ANECDOTES AND ILLUMINATION BY AND FOR THE PAWNS OF THE
M00SE ILLUMINATI
Issue 45 | Disclaimer: The Editor does hereby take responsibility | 10/04/90
---------- for the full contents of this newsletter. Accountability ----------
is now the name of the game. A pox on playing it safe. Let's get real. Bl00p.
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**************************** THE ISSUE AT A GLANCE *****************************
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EDITORIALS AND LETTERS
Pickle wastes some bandwidth
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS
A contest in Alaska
EVENTS AND NEWS
Progress in strategic placement by the Marist thr0ng
An update on activities at Clemson University
INTERESTING ARTICLES
A m00se in Moscow
A letter from Saudi Arabia
More prophesies of the coming of the M00se Age
FICTION AND POETRY
Some doggerel from Silverm00se
M00SCELLANEOUS NONSENSE
The great Elvis debate continues
M00sebabble from Mugwump
Vam00se on milk cartons
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**************************** EDITORIALS AND LETTERS ****************************
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Howdy, all.
Well, it's now been nearly 48 hours since Germany became Germany again,
and nothing's gone wrong outside their borders. Nothing directly attributable
to reunification, that is. What we must ask ourselves is, "Is this remarkable
event a shining symbol of forthcoming world peace, or a sinister plot of the
Bavarian Illuminati? And are they *really* going to put a speed limit on the
Autobahn?"
But those are not questions I wish to deal with right now.
As I write this, some five days after moving back home with my parents,
the weather is looking grim. Trees are whipping around, and wind is
periodically making that noise outside my window that keeps me awake at night.
It's quite nice.
We've lost two m00ses since you received issue #44, but we've gained
three. One of them has pointed out to me that M00se Droppings is being
archived at a pub/m00se directory on the quartz.rutgers.edu anonymous ftp
archive. I don't know who put them there, but it's yet another indication that
more people than ever are being exposed to our literature.
I received quite a few submissions for this issue, so I don't want to take
up much space here. Please, by all means, continue sending your submissions.
Next issue: The BOLSHOI Project.
Bl00p,
Pickle
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************************** IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS *****************************
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[Let's go for it. These people have to learn when to slash their 'o's.
Submitted by Mugwump. -wrd]
Flyer posted around campus this week:
---------------------------------------------------------
WANTED
(picture-of-moose-horns)
Moose Stories
Humorous Encounters
Moose Attacks
Backyard Stories
Highway Hassles
City Dwellers
Submit typed or neatly written stories, 100-1000 word
stories to the following address:
Animal Stories
P.O. Box 148-A
Palmer, Alaska 99645
Include Phone No. and self-addressed, stamped envelope for
reply and payment information
-------------------------------------------------------------
So, all you M00SE-- send your m00siest stories to the above address.
Let them know what a powerful, all-pervasive and off-the-wall illuminatus
organization this is. Good luck.
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****************************** EVENTS AND NEWS *********************************
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[Our Marist thr0ng has successfully infiltrated a number of important
positions. Good work, m00ses! Submitted by Rescue M00se. --wrd]
Marist M00seketeers infiltration:
ORGANIZATION INFILTRATED POSITION SEIZED
======================== ===============
College Union Board: VP
Commuter Union: Members and President :*)
Computing Facility: Lab Manager
Computing Society: Members
Marist EMS: Founder
Marist Health Services: Multiple EMTs
Marist Media Center: Lab Tech
MCTV (Marist College TV): Producer, Camera Man
Outback Club: Members
Student Aides: Members
System Operations: Senior Systems Op
Systems Programing: System clerk
Off campus:
Culinary Institute of America (CIA): Operations Manager
Dutchess County Disaster Team: Member
IBM: Lab Instructor
Red Hook Fire Dept: FF-EMT (guess who :*)
We are moving right along :*)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[News from Clemson. I really like the library-book idea. Submitted by SNAFU
M00SE, correspondent for the MUSElix thr0ng. --wrd]
Ever since seeing the light of m00sedom last spring, the conspiracy in the
upper corner of the lower south east has been growing steadily. I have
personally presided over 10 initiations in the past six months, and there is
no telling how many other pawns our lost members have accrued.
The general goal of the m00ses of the thr0ng of the Mid-Upper South East
(MUSE, pronounced MUSElix like the cereal for confusion), apart from a vain
attempt to get better grades, has been to strive to increase membership and
awareness of the illuminati wherever possible. This generally consists of
intoxicating ourselves and rambling on about the secret conspiracy that will
one day unite the world under its majestic antlers.
Usually, this provokes strange glances from the un-illuminated, but
occasionally, we find a being truly worthy of M00sedom, and they are promptly
educated and given membership.
Another thing we have done is to print up dozens of little scraps of paper
with the majestic symbol of the pyramid (long may it stand). These scraps are
left in books in the library, stuck on boards and generally left all over the
place. Much confusion has abounded.
Anyway, the semester is just getting underway. Many more m00sey things
will soon spring up all across the country.
Incidentally, for any of you who happen to be planning to go to Magnum
Opus CON in April, there will be a TOP SECRET M00se Illuminati membership drive
and weenie roast held on the party floor. The time and place will be posted
all over the con, so keep an eye out for the sign. BL00P.
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**************************** INTERESTING ARTICLES ******************************
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[A m00se in Moscow -- Wrangle opens grand new frontiers for the M00se
Illuminati -- mother Russia herself. -wrd]
INSIDE COMMUNIST RUSSIA
Moscow--Wrangle reports on the demise of the International Communist
Conspiracy
It was a job for Joe Bob Briggs, the only man in America with the guts to
confront the Red Menace head-on. But Joe Bob was passed out in a topless bar
in Amarillo (a little well deserved R & R), so I had to do the best I could.
Fortunately, I had listened to Joe Bob's warnings. I thought I was ready. I
was wrong.
I slipped into Moscow with little difficulty. The invitation to lecture
on metaphysics at the Institute of Philosophy of the USSR Academy of Sciences
lulled the border guards into carelessness. My contacts from the Institute
helped me check into the hotel--visit three separate offices where no one
speaks English, fill out 11 pages of forms printed in Russian, surrender your
passport to the hotel administrator and pay a fee for the privilege of doing
so--a piece of cake. Then we hopped a subway to visit my hosts at the
Institute.
I knew I was in trouble even before I got out of the subway station. I
rounded a corner and Rambo leapt from behind a pillar with an assault rifle
levelled at my chest!!! Or so I thought. In fact, it was just a poster. Some
enterprising Muscovite was raking in the cash selling life-sized posters of
American pop culture icons--Rambo, Madonna (nice cleavage), several blonde
bimbos with wet t-shirts (or no t-shirts at all).
Matters went downhill from there. Poets and rebels denounced Gorbachev on
street corners, police officers inquired politely about prices at an UNOFFICIAL
art fair, every other person I passed on streets offered to exchange money (the
official rate is 6 rubles to the dollar, the street rate is 20 to 1), and I
couldn't find anyone anywhere who would admit to being a communist.
Ah, but there were signs of communism everywhere. The infrastructure--
roads, buildings, bridges, trains--is deteriorating at an unbelievable rate. I
took the stairs to and from my 12th floor hotel room because the elevator was
just too terrifying. The cars were so old that no self-respecting junkman
would have them on his lot. The senses were continually assaulted by the
sights and sounds and smells of decay. I even chain smoked because it was
cleaner than breathing.
Ah, but pollution isn't the only thing that hangs heavy in the Moscow air.
There's revolution afoot. The old people seem afraid of the changes they know
are coming, but the young people and the intelligentsia are ready to rock and
roll. The black market operates openly in the streets, intellectuals don't
even bother to pretend to have any respect for Marxist ideology, newspapers
denounce the government in a dozen languages--I would have given my eye teeth
for even a half a case of good, American dynamite.
A perfect environment for someone who likes to shoot off his mouth. Yours
truly rose to the occasion, although with some difficulty. It is hard to say
anything shocking or radical in a country which is preparing to dismantle the
central government, dissolve into its constituent republics, and completely
eradicate all traces of 70 years of communist government; thus, I approached my
lectures to the Institute with some trepidation. Finally, in desperation, I
opined that George Bush is the modern incarnation of Lenin, and that the
peoples of the USA and the USSR must make common cause against this threat of a
new communist conspiracy, arising like a Phoenix from the ashes of the old.
But even this blatant lunacy produced more sympathetic responses than
denunciations.
What finally defeated me utterly was the retail system from Hell.
Shopping in Moscow is simply not possible for someone born and bred in the
United Consumers of America. The Soviet retail system is designed to make the
acquisition of the necessities and luxuries of life nearly impossible. For me,
it was impossible. I was forced to slink out of Moscow with nary a thing in my
bags to capture the attention of the Customs Agents.
Joe Bob, a true patriot, likes to brag of the USA that "this ain't
Communist Russia." I'm here to tell you that Communist Russia ain't Communist
Russia no more either. It is not clear what it is going to become, yet. But
one thing is clear: the people of Russia and several other of the republics
that comprise the USSR have decided to kick ass and take names. And inquiring
minds want to know who is going to end up with the missiles. You can bet that
I am looking into acquiring one for myself.
The demise of the International Communist Conspiracy is many things. But
most of all, fellow M00ses, it is an opportunity. Seize this opportunity.
Denounce the government. Subvert the evil plans of George Bush and the
Trilateral Commission. Spread vicious lies about politicians. Refuse to
register for the draft. Encourage disorder in any way you can. Make trouble!!
Our comrades in the USSR have shown us the way.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[This letter was originally submitted to the POLITICS list by Harl0ck. His
introductory remarks will explain more. --wrd]
This morning's "Central Michigan Life" [Sept. 28] had an interesting
article concerning what was going on in Saudi Arabia. Briefly, a mother of one
of the soldiers in SA received this letter. For reasons that will be clear
when you read it, it enraged her, and she's been going public with it, because
she fears for her daughter's life. The letter was printed in its entirety in
CM Life, and it is from that I'm taking what is below. The mother's name is
Bobbie Slockum, and her daughter (the soldier who wrote the letter)'s name is
Debbie, although Debbie's last name is different from her mothers. No spelling
errors in the letter were corrected.
-------------------------
Mom,
I was really hoping I didn't have to write this leter. I didn't want you
to know what was really going on - cause I didn't want you to worry about me
any more than you already do.
I hope this letter makes it to you - I don't know if they go through our
mail. But I feel that our families have just as much right to know what we're
up against as the soldiers do.
About four days ago, they took all our ammunition away from us. They
said they didn't want us to hurt each other. We're sitting ducks. Five to
seven thousand soldiers in one building - and no ammunition.
They've rendered the whole division defenseless. I think that's really
stupid. Mom, I'm really scared. I can't remember a time in my life I was
more scared than I am right now.
Our commanders finally decided to tell us what's going on. And it isn't
pretty at all. I don't know what the news is telling you back home - but I'm
gonna tell you how it really is.
This is one of those "you better sit down" letters. There has been
several known terrorist groups found inside our perimeter. Something that
wasn't supposed to be able to happen. They are planning to hit two (that we
know of) places where U.S. soldiers are at.
King Fahd International Airport - which is where we are at (with no
ammunition) and Da-ha-ron Airport, where all our equipment and supplies come
in. That we could figure out. We're prime targets.
Yesterday they found a terrorist *inside* our building where we sleep.
He was carrying blueprints to the building. They were marked where all our
air missles are located - where all the units are located inside and where
all the officers sleep. We were told that the shit could come down any day
now.
This isn't summer camp. I could lose my life - and I don't wanta die.
I don't want to be here. And I don't want to die. Mom - I'm scared.
Please pray for me. Pray for all of us over here.
I didn't want to cry before - cause I didn't want to look like a fool.
I'm crying now. I don't want to die - and I might not get to see my family
again. If that makes me look like a fool - then I'll be a fool.
I love you Mom - and I'm gonna do what ever it takes to come home alive.
P.S. Please pray for Becky, too. I love her very much.
-----------------------------------------
Some scary stuff, indeed...
Gary W. Olson (34EPWQL@CMUVM.BITNET) Central Michigan University
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"...there are periods of history when the visions of madmen and dope fiends
are a better guide to reality than the common-sense interpretation of data
available to the so-called normal mind. This is one such period, if you
haven't noticed already." ("The Illuminatus! Trilogy")
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[More from the M00se Prophet, Lord Sabre. --wrd]
Being the next chapter in the Signs of incipepent and total M00siness....
Deep in the American Midwest, a woman leans up against a tree. She is
young, and lovely, with reddish hair, light green eyes, a soft look to her
face, and a warm, caring personality. She has managed to avoid the rampent
Republicanism and staid attitudes of her hometown, and within her lovely breast
beats a heart that yearns to beat free.
With a crash of thunder and light, the mighty god Apollo desends to Earth
before the lovely lass, majestic in his solar glory and omnipotent in his
demeanor.
"Excuse me, miss," Apollo says, mildly, "One of my friends is having his
opening night concert at the Philadelphia Spectrum. Could you direct me that
way?"
Quietly, the girl pointed east.
"Thank you," the god said, and left, leaving the girl to her dreams.
But that is another vision.
The third sign will arise when Vince McMahon, Jr., the Promoter and
President of the World Wrestling Federation and all-around slimeball, will
explode during a tough play-by-play with Rowdy Roddy Piper. However, the
Spirit of McMahon will survive, and will sense an underdeveloped brain with
little coherent thought and no personality to speak of. Sensing that this body
is one of an inferior being, McMahon will obliterate the soul of the person and
viciously take the body over.
"God, I'm scrawny," he will say, as soon as he becomes coherent. "This
body needs some steroids, and fast. I'll have to make some calls. I hope the
idiot I'm replacing has a little money to play with."
So saying, McMahon will go through his body's wallet. He will stare at
the Federal Identification Card for a while.
"Daniel Quayle," the card will read, "Vice-President. No, really. If
this person shows up at the Senate, you have to let him in."
"Daniel Quayle?" McMahon will sputter, "I've become Vice-President?"
This will be the third sign, and much M00sy anarchy will result.
"FRENCH FRIES!!!!!!!" The omnipotent Leviam00se will shriek, quite
incoherent, now. "I WANT **FRENCH FRIES**!!!!! SAY IT!!!"
"Mmm mmmmm mmmmmm mmmmm. Mmmmm mmmm mmm mmmmmmm mmmm mmm?" the speaker
will say.
"I'M LATE FOR THE AGE OF M00SINESS, YOU IMBECILE!!!!! LEMMIE GET MY FOOD
AND GET OUTTA HERE!!!"
Thor and the Sacred Uru Hammers do indeed open at the Spectrum, with
several Gods and thousands of screaming worshippers in the audience. Also, all
of the people who have made it their careers to attend opening nights (in hopes
of appearing on Entertainment Tonight and maybe getting a movie deal) will also
show up, but the Valkerior will desend from Asgard and slay them, so it'll be
all right.
As Thor wraps up a successful cover of "Iron Man," involving several
tossess of the hammer and structural damage to the spectrum, he notices many
nubile females ripping their clothes off and hurling them onto the stage.
Thor leans over to Heimdall, the Guardian of the Rainbow Bridge and lead
bass for the Sacred Uru Hammers and mutters, "Y'know, this is loads better than
the days when Vikings would take their helms off when it thundered."
"What it is, Bossman," Heimdall will reply, as Clarence Clemens goes into
the first Heavy Metal Sax Solo in history.
More....later.
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***************************** FICTION AND POETRY *******************************
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[Some short doggerel from Silverm00se. --wrd]
Puck, schmuck, raise a duck
Bite its beak, it's good for luck
A wicker windmill grinding dope
Ship it east out to the Pope
Pennies flipping, women dripping
I think my mind is quickly slipping
Stephen Honking slowly bonking
His head into an open stocking
"Stick 'em up!" he yells with vigor
"And fill my telescope with liquor!"
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*************************** M00SCELLANEOUS NONSENSE ****************************
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[Pat continues his argument on the "Elvis eats boats/Elvis needs boats"
question. --wrd]
How can he be "Captain Elvis", "Commodore Elvis", or "The Sailing Elvis"
without a boat? Obviously, he NEEDS a boat.
[Pat also claims to have found that this is the truth by -- get this -- buying
the compact disc in question and listening to it closely. A likely story.
Is it not possible that Elvis is merely exercising his extraordinary powers
of confusion to prevent clear vision in this matter? --wrd]
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[I think Mugwump should provide us with this kind of thing every issue. --wrd]
I almost hit a couple of m00se on my way to school this morning. At first
I saw them out of the corner of my eye, and I thought they were horses, but as
I got closer they ran across the road and became m00se and I was glad I didn't
hit them because I have a fairly small car and it would have caused quite major
damage to the m00se, the car, and myself.
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[Vam00se discourses on milk cartons, of the U.S. and soviet variety. -wrd]
Issue #44 reminded me of....milkcartons. Okay, so maybe they were already
on my mind, or maybe, just maybe, there was some sort of subliminal message
that *made* me think of milkcartons. Anyhow, I am currently thinking of
milkcartons. Who invented them? I don't know.
Somewhere along the line when we stopped having the milkman leave them in
that little box at the side of the house (my house doesn't even HAVE a little
box there, but my grandfather's used to, and it is his that I think of whenever
I think of that little box that milkmen opened and sat the milk into -- surely
you know of what I speak) in recyclable glass bottles (in fact, you weren't
supposed to keep the bottles, I guess) and instead sent mothers and general
shoppers out to the grocery store to fetch little wax-coated paperboard
cartons. The kind that has a weird little double-sided arrow on one end and
'open other end' at the other, or similar information. The general theory is
that you pull open the two sides, something which is rarely accomplished, and
then you push out a spout. Normally what happens is the carton is gouged from
step 1, causing milk to dump all over the table while pouring. Now, is this
solely american, or is this some sort of international conspiracy?
Well, I don't know. I haven't seen the milk cartons of most countries. I
bet some of them still have milkmen. But in Moscow, your quart of Moloko comes
with ingenious instructions. There are those funny double ended arc-shaped
arrows on BOTH sides of the carton. There's also a diagram of the "proper" way
to open a milk carton:
Pull apart the two ends, like we do here, and make the spout. Then
duplicate this action on the other side. That's right, you've lost your
pouring spout. You instead have a big square hole leading straight down to
your milk. Then you kind of press it into a warped star formation and pour.
No way to reseal it, and many chances of spilling. I'm not kidding. I have
the carton at home if you want proof.
So anyhow, what they do with a milkcarton in Moscow is beyond me. I don't
grasp the concept. But they probably still have milkmen, and maybe a hole in
the wall. Not to say that there will be milk, or that it won't glow in the
dark from the farmlands of chernobyl, where over 2,000,000 Soviets still live.
Now, we still have postmen who come to the door, delivering mail. But he
doesn't ring bells, let alone twice. And he doesn't bring milk. And I used to
have a mailman who didn't even bring mail daily. He saved it up somewhere, I
guess. Now we have a new mailman who brings me milkcartons from moscow, but
without milk. For variety, they contain two matreshkas, three pins, and ten
kopeeks. And they couldn't even get the directions straight.
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*************** AND, OF COURSE, THE UBIQUITOUS M00SE LIST UPDATE ***************
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Silly me. It seems I forgot to mail it with last issue. So, following
*this* issue, will be a complete and updated M00se list, complete with landed
m00ses. Really.
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