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Propaganda Unlimited Volume 1 Issue 7
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P R O P A G A N D A U N L I M I T E D
August 25, 1994 Volume One, Issue Five
"More Fun Than You Can Have Watching the OJ Trial!"
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CONTENTS
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1. Introduction to Issue #7
by Midget Caesar
2. Propaganda by Mail
3. Video Games I'd Like to See
by Aquarius
4. Dystropia -- The Prayer of the Congealed Mass
by Midget Caesar
5. Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace, Part Seven
by Constantine
6. Dystropia Part ?, The Crossover Continues
by Midget Caesar
7. How I Got in Touch With My Inner Feelings
About My Multiple Cross-Dressing Personalities
by Newt
8. Aquarius' Joke Corner (a new feature!)
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STAFF
-----
Midget Caesar.......... Witness for the Prostitution, Head
Writer.
Constantine............ D-FENS, Head Editor.
Oregano................ Tampered With Suspect's DNA, Evanston
Correspondant.
Nyarlathotep........... Tampered With His Own DNA, Indiana
Correspondant.
Newt................... Was Nowhere Near the Murder Scene,
Writing Staff.
Aquarius............... Probably Did It, Writing Staff.
Psychotic Ambition..... Too Depressed to Kill Anyone, Writing
Staff.
Comrade Slash.......... There Was No Political Value to the
Killings Anyway, Writing Staff.
Malakai................ OJ in Disguise, Writing Staff.
Platinum Ego........... Kato in Disguise, Writing Staff.
Dr. Fig................ Dr. Fig in Disguise, Writing Staff.
and, of course...
Two Fish............... The Arbiter of All That is Cool.
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Come Along And Ride On The Fantastic Voyage
(slide slide slippedy slide):
The Rescue of the Strangeways Asylum
(sort of a "moving between places part two")
It was a dark and stormy night somewhere in Asia, but not here
in Chicago. The die had been cast: Propaganda Unlimited was
scheduled to make its grand comeback that very night, the moment
Constantine got around to uploading the file to the labs of the
Strangeways Asylum BBS. The moment huddled masses across the globe
had waited for (Since America won't take your poor and huddled
masses, we at PU will at least entertain them) had nearly arrived.
When I returned to the PU HQ after work, I prepared to pick
up the new issue: to no avail. The Strangeways Asylum was offline.
Nex, the console sysop, was on vacation. No explanation, no sane
rationale for why the BBS was offline. Could it have been one
of our assorted groups of enemies? Could it have simply been
Milo, unhappy about his portrayal in the Dystropia/Fear And Loathing
crossover? Or maybe it was Bill Gates, whose reasons I chose not to
contemplate? I didn't know. But one thing was for sure: PU's return
was delayed, and there would be hell to pay for this. (Or, if they
were broke, we might be able to hit up Heaven for a few bucks)
A call the next morning from Nex, long distance from his
Skydiving Convention, confirmed that foul play must have taken
place, and not his early return as I had hoped. So if PU was to
rise again, I was going to have to make the treacherous hour-long
journey into the belly of the beast, also known as Nex's house,
where the most feared of all demons awaited: His Mother.
After obtaining permission to do so, I began my journey. It
required a train ride, getting on another train, and then a walk.
The first train ride was simple enough. The second train was slow
in arriving, and crowded upon arrival. Only after I sat down did
I realize that the train was populated with demons, one of which
was eating fried chicken. Damn. None of the real people sitting
nearby seemed to realize that hellspawn were riding this train
with them. How typical of humans. I disguised myself as a human,
and hoped the hellspawn wouldn't notice me, and it worked. I got
off the train at the end of the line and began the treacherous
walk to Nex's house. The sounds of the Sisters of Mercy emanating
from my Walkman warded off any evil, and soon I was there.
At this point in the story, an orphaned child enters. This
child is only here to generate sympathy and compassion in the
reader. The child's parents were killed in a tragic origami
accident. After seeing a play in which a central character was
killed by origami (coincidentally, this was a play in which I
played a small role, making me partially responsible for their
deaths), they believed that it couldn't happen to them. And
they suffered because of it.
<exeunt Orphaned Child>
I had been instructed to knock on the back door to alert
Nex's mother to my arrival, and though it may have appeared
to an untrained eye that I was lost because I roamed through
several alleyways trying to find the right house, I was actually
shaking off a car that had been trailing me, so THERE. Nex's
mother opened the door, and greeted me. Since she has attempted
to murder me in the past after I gave her wrong directions to
a high school <coincidentally, the same high school outside
which I waited for the bus told about in Moving Between Places
Part One, and also the same high school where I acted in a play
that got me a role in the play in which the character was killed
my origami, making Nex and his mother also partially responsible
for the deaths of the child's parents, and bringing parts One
and Two of this serial neatly full circle>, I was a bit nervous.
I walked into Nex's room, which had recently been cleaned, which
seemed VERY suspicious. Nex's mother professed not to know what
could have happened as I quizzed her about power outages and the
like. Her story had no holes in it that I could find.....until
she slipped up by changing the topic to how messy "Tommy" was.
She then waved a knife at me, and as I was about to assume
a protective stance, she told me that she had found it in Nex's
room, slightly singed. Ah-Ha! A Murder plot, perhaps? Or computer
sabotage? Then she mentioned how several things had been caught
up in the vacuum cleaner bag - and I had my answer. She had been
hired by one of our enemies to disconnect the computer's power
supply briefly, just briefly enough to knock the BBS offline. I
thanked her, and got her to leave. I slipped over to the power
supply, made sure it was okay, and turned on the computer, loaded
up Renegade, and my task was complete. After calling a friend to
remote-test the BBS, all was ready, and not trusting fate to work
in our favor, I called Constantine and had him upload the new
issue of PU right then and there. And all was done - the BBS was
safe. After messing up Nex's legions of Magic [tm] cards, I quickly
left, Nex's mother's plot foiled. And I was gone.
To add a socially responsible side to this tfile, I strolled
into the library, and got dirty looks when I wandered over towards
the childrens' section, so I went into the more "mature" section
of the library, and was summarily bored out of my mind, and since
most of the people THERE seemed to be glaring at me, I left. The
walk into the library had one positive side-effect, though - I
found a free magazine called the "Illinois Entertainer" that had
Tori Amos on the cover, and stories about the Mekons and the
Church inside. (And it was a good interview, find it if you can)
The forces of evil, having been defeated, didn't interfere with my
train ride home. And I was safe, and Propaganda Unlimited was safe to
publish again another day.
(This TFile has been brought to you by Midget Caesar, with inspiration
and dramatic aid from Oregano. Thank you for your support)
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Propaganda By Mail
(Our Letters Column)
[As always, send letters to PU staffers on any of our official
sites, or to our official box at PULETTERS@AOL.COM. We want
to hear from ya. You never write, you know. Your mother is
worried sick about you. And do you care? No, no, you're
too busy off galavanting all over town with that brazen hussy!
Don't "oh, dad" me! We know what's best for--
::BANG::
Sorry. On to the letters.]
Re: Why I hate #2 Pencils
To: Newt
I'm beginning to believe that the college / standardized test
insanity is just that. I'm also beginning to believe that people do NOT
have to go through this process in order to get where they want to in life.
Let's use an example. You are #1 rank in your graduating class. You
get a full ride to Yale. you graduate yale with outstanding grades. You
get your Major. You end up getting hired by a really big corperation, and
have a really high paying job. But... where are the goals here? Is that
your goal in life? Make money? Doesn't sound like a good goal to me. But,
unfortunatly, that is the goal of the people that made all these fucking
standardized tests.
Now, for instance, let's say you've always dreamed of being able to
work with those less fortunate than you. Your GPA or class rank or ACT
scores won't matter. All you need to do is find a college that will accept
you, and take the classes you need/want. There ARE a lot of colleges out
there that don't require 31's on the ACT, you know. Well, you take the
classes you want, and you get a small job doing what you like. If you do
it well, maybe you'll be able to get a bigger, higher paying job doing
what you like.
Or, as in my case, let's say you dream of being an actor. The school
you get into is not a real big deal in this case either (unless, you're one
of those actors that want all the glory in life..). Your ACT scores don't
matter. your GPA doesn't matter. All that matters is if you do what you
like to do well.
Those are just a few examples. There are simply TONS of jobs that
fit in those catagories. See, too many people go through the College scam
to find out they still don't know what they want to do when they're out of
college. All they end up with is a little more knowledge on random stuff
and a big debt to carry around for the next 10 years. These are the people
that usually end up going into business, being very unhappy, buying themselves
digital watches (which don't make them much happier), and dying of heart
disease.
I'm not saying you won't die of heart disease if you do what you like,
I'm just saying... what was I saying?
I was saying if you know what you want to do, you shouldn't spend
your time stressed out about filling in the correct bubbles. Just do your
best, and everything should come out O.K.
---
ralph@life.edu
[Ralph, we agree completely. Of course, we're complete idiotic
jackasses, so take that as you will. --editor]
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List of Video Games I'd Like To See
by Aquarius
1. Santa Coal Patrol
In this game, you would be Santa on Christmas Eve. You would have
to make sure that all the bad boys and girls get coal in their
stockings! But don't give coal to the good kids or you lose points!
Higher levels include more bad kids and cheap plastic toys that
break easily.
2. Mortal Barney
This would be similar to Mortal Kombat except the objective would
be to fight Barney to the death. Finishing moves a necessity
to know.
3. Suburban Nightmare
There wouldn't really be a goal for this game. It would simply
be a driving simulator with a choice of different vehicles. You
could drive a semi, a Ferrari, a 4x4 pickup, or a station wagon.
All you would do is drive around a suburban neighborhood for
a certain time limit per credit. The only thing is, you would
receive complete freedom. Drive through houses, lawns, other
cars, pedestrians, etc. with full realism.
4. Drunk Driver
This would also be a driving simulator with a twist! You're drunk!
Try to drive all your pals home without killing everyone. Bonus
points after every level if you aren't arrested. Levels defined
by difficulty (blood-alcohol level).
5. Riot!
The setting is downtown Los Angeles. And there's a riot on. You
must try to loot as many items as you can without being killed
by other looters or caught. 5000 point bonus for each fire
started. Store security systems increase in difficulty as game
progresses.
6. Acid Trip
You've just taken/smoken something very powerful and you must
try to discern reality from hallucination. Each level will have
a different setting, from bedroom on up to Death Metal Concert.
7. Super Ultra Donkey Kong
Remember good ol' Donkey Kong? It's back, but this time Mario's
got an equalizer: an Uzi submachine gun! No ape is going to stop
this Italian stud from rescuing his girlfriend. Pump a few rounds
into the gorilla and you complete the level. Gorilla excrement
and banana peels increase as levels progress, causing you to slip
and your machine gun to occasionally jam.
8. Braincase Bowling
A great bowling game, but no bowling balls... human heads instead!
Try to select the head with the perfect weight and facial
characteristics. But don't bowl that head too hard! Broken
facial features can affect ball path!
9. Torture Chamber
You are a spy, captured behind enemy lines. You hold sensitive
information that your enemy must know. Diodes will be placed
in certain bodily areas (built into game) for this one. The
question is: how much electricity can you take? High score table
determined by highest number of watts taken before player hits
"Give away everything" button.
10. Assassination
You are an assassin, hired to kill prominent political figures.
Using your simulated high-range rifle you must pick off leaders
for cash. Difficulty (security, motion & location of target)
increase for each level. After you fire, the game turns into
arcade/action as you run from the local police on up to the
Secret Service!
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(a dystropian jam of a different sort....)
Fear and Apathy in CyberDystropia Part Green:
The Prayer Of The Congealed Mass
--------------------------------
a Midget Caesar production
I was vaguely aware that I was falling, but it didn't seem as important
as an obligatory flashback scene, so I proceeded with the flashback.
Moments earlier, the giant whale looming over the horizon had been a
harbinger of doom for the poor villagers. There was no protection,
no defense, no hope, and no poultry. A collective scream rose up from the
populace as it approached. Spasms of colour and light flew from the wake of
the demonic whale, confident in its approach. It was fearless.....until it
saw me. Only then did it know fear.
"Um, Larry? Lar, look at dis....dere's dis guy swinging toward us wit a
rope or sometin', whadda he think he is? Tarzan or sumtin'? Whoa....whoa,
Larry, what da hell is he doin????"
I swung into the depths of the whale through a bold gash I had made in the
whale's side. The fools tried to keep me out by sending great gusts of wind
against me, but I prevailed anyways, slipping inside of the behemoth and,
ready for confrontation, ventured further into the unknown.
"LARRY! Dat nut's gonna get us kilt! Seal off deck #6 before we get sucked
outta here? How'd he do dat???? Oh geez....he's after the caterers...."
A penguin wandered towards me, the penguin of temptation. It threatened me
at first, but its threats of canings and nuclear food fights scared me not.
I melded with the shadows as I approaced, his fear growing increasingly
palpable with each step. I prepared to strike, and with a tone that would
make the mightiest of men to wet their undies, I told him that not only did I
know what evil lurked within his heart, I also knew what he had had for
breakfast that morning.
"Larry, if he gets in here he'll be able to jettison all the tour
equipment! Send security.....wait, whaddya mean he took out the security?
How....oh, geez, really? With HOW MUCH jello? oh, man, Larry, LARRY!!!!!"
I forced the devil into the gelatinous pits of retribution and proceeded
to send the machines of evil into the lake below. The one called Larry
came rushing into the den of evil, where I informed him that his evil had
been thwarted, and left him to bring the whale down. Satisfied, I made my
heroic exit through the window.
This was one Michael Bolton concert that wasn't going ANYWHERE.
So now that the heroic flashback is over, I find myself spiralling into
oblivion......hello, my name is Floyd. It usually falls to me to save the
world, which I don't mind because of the 20% employees discount my employers
promised me. (A discount for what, I'm not sure, but I can't wait to find
out) I live on the Sunny Side Up, in the Vortex. I seem to be the last of
a long line of adventurers, the brave Knights In Shining Cloth Diapers.
Ah.....the sweet smell of pavement rushing up to meet me.....there's
nothing quite like it. And then, suddenly, I was someplace else....
"Floyd, you're going to get yourself killed someday, and I'd really rather
not have to clean you up and find a replacement."
I smiled at my boss. A devout Apathetic, he was a nice enough guy.
"Boss, you've got to quit interrupting my heroic moments.....I was just
about to whip out my trusty Floydarang and save myself with it."
My boss's name was Jo. (his parents, being devout Apathetics themselves,
hadn't cared enough to add on the 'e' to his name) He was the Second Church
of Apathy's Publicity Director Of All Heroic Things, and since the Church
doesn't care enough to publicize itself, he's rarely very busy. Once in
awhile, some poor desperate soul will come in here looking for a heroic
deed to be performed, and that's when I get called.
"Floyd, the other Apathetics have all disappeared somewhere, and they
forgot to tell me where they were going, so I'm left in the dark. Something
does actually seem to be wrong with the world, but I don't really feel like
finding out what it is. A dark and mysterious figure in a trench coat
came in today and said he wanted a heroic deed done, but he was somewhat
vague.....I didn't bother to write it down. Something about Reality and
Constantine and a large group of ninjas with an insecurity complex."
I headed out cheerfully, ready to save the world (or a cat stuck up in
a tree, as it usually happens). This was more than Jo usually gave me
to go on.....
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Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace, Part Seven:
"We're Going to Graceland!"
(Part Two of the Dystropia/Fear and Loathing crossover)
by Constantine
The ninjas closed in on the courthouse steps, a silent ring of death
tightening like a noose around my throat. As sharpened steel gleamed
in the sunlight, my entire life flashed before my eyes.
Suddenly, Jesse Helms landed with a "Dystropians 4 Jesus" strike
force in full hover-assault body armor, their Impurity Detectors
triggered by my inopportune flashback. Weilding planetary biodisruptor
cannons, rocket launchers, chainsaws, BFGs and cold-water firehoses,
they engaged the ninjas in combat, screaming "repent!" and "support
the tobbaco lobby, you heathen foreigners!"
The skirmish lasted about thirty seconds, and I watched as the
victorious ninja clan, the street around them littered with corpses
and Bible tracts, slowly vivisected and dismembered Jesse Helms as
his internal organs burst one at a time.
"You know," I said as the black-clad assassins turned their attention
back to me, "Under normal circumstances, I would have enjoyed that a
LOT more."
With only seconds to live, I knew I had to take a chance. Smiling
amiably, I turned to the closest ninja and said, "Wow! That was pretty
cool!"
A deathly hush fell over the street as they stopped in their tracks.
"It was?"
"Heck, yeah! You're the Elbow Clan, right?"
"You've HEARD of us?"
"Everyone has! You guys are the greatest warriors in the universe,
everybody knows that!"
Their leader stepped forward, awestruck. "Well... Well, yes, I
guess we are, aren't we?"
"Sure you are! And there's no doubt at all that any of you could
kill me in a heartbeat, is there?"
"No," the ninja said, sharpening his katana, "I don't suppose so."
"Well then," I said, "There's no problem! YOU know you could kill
me, I know you could kill me-- so why waste your time and energy
actually DOING it?"
"I guess you're right," the leader said, the others nodding proudly
as they parted to let me down the stairs. As I dug in my pocket for
the keys to the 14.4, the black interdimensional portal humming off
to my side, I heard a voice pipe up from the back of the crowd.
"How do you know he's telling the truth?"
"KILL!" the ninjas screamed as they lunged towards me. With no time
to spare, I threw myself through the portal, my senses drowned out
in cold, inky blackness as I was teleported across the dimensional
drift, to...?
TO BE CONTINUED...
Watch for Fear and Loathing Part Eight:
James Earl Jones is in Deep Doo-Doo!
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The Prayer Of The Congealed Mass Part Two:
SURRENDER, Dorothy! We Have You Surrounded!
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(Part Two of the Dystropia/Cyberspace Crossover)
They call me Floyd. They also call me "idiot", "psychopath", and
"lunatic", but "Floyd" has the nicest ring to it, so I choose that one.
And a funny thing happened to me on the way to the office......
I was chatting with a chicken as we both crossed the road, our goal
the same, to get to the other side. I knew that I was supposed to be
doing something vaguely heroic, but I couldn't be sure what, so I
crossed the road again - but this time, standing in my path, were a
large group of pasty-faced teenagers. They had joysticks slung around
their shoulders, a dirty looking vehicle with "BLu WaV - CRaKeD!" written
on the side, along with a curious word called "WaReZ". Hmm....one of
them stepped forward, and began to speak.
"R U....(he glanced into a computer screen) Elvis?"
"Um, no."
"R U....Forrest Gump?"
<Who IS that guy?> "Nope."
"R U....Kurdt Kobane?"
(upon saying this, the teenager seemed to have realized that he had
made an error, and the others burst out in tears. When they had
composed themselves, he continued the questioning)
"R U....a chikin?"
"No....there was one here, but he crossed the road."
"R U....Meat Loaf?"
"I'd do anything to be him, but I won't do that."
"R U a membur of any DiST groupz or ANSi?"
"I'm getting a bit antsy, yes."
<this seemed to please them>
"/<00l! R ya in ACiD? Can u make me a membur?"
"Um, sorry, I've said too much already...." (I was getting confused)
"Oh, we getcha. FeDZ 'n all...."
"Um, right."
"R U....Floyd?"
"Why yes, pleased to meet you."
The teenagers cheered, and broke out a few MODs in celebration. Then the
leader stepped forward to explain himself.
"C, d00d, we r not from heer. Wur from anothur place, the NeT!
An' wur /<-Ra|>!!!"
<they all exchanged high fives>
"Wur PeNiS, an' wur the....(he flashed a colorful sign at me,
which read "MaSTuRs oF DiSaSTuR!!! - ANSi by WiZaRD"). An' we want u
to com with us."
I suddenly remembered my mission.
"I have to go save somebody named Constantine from a large group of
ninjas....sorry, I have to go, guys. Nice meeting you, though."
The teenagers conferred, argued, threatened each other with deletion,
and finally came back to me.
"Gess whut? We knowe wher Constantine iz! YeaH! Wu'll taik u 2 him!"
"Okay, sure! Let's go!" This had to beat taking the bus again.
And we left....
The PeNiS members seemed to be very excited about "the file pointz
we'll get for this guy!!!", and after a long journey, the vehicle slowed
down. The teenagers seemed to agree that they had finished the "upload",
and were home. We stood in front of a seedy looking place identified as
"THe CHeaP MoTeL 16.8!" The members of PeNiS told me to go inside. I
cheerfully strolled in, sidled up to the bar, and ordered a Mango Madness
Cocktail. The entire bar quieted, and stared at me. Were they offended
by my day-glo boxer shorts? Had I said something wrong? I turned to
ask the nearest PeNiS member, but was instead confronted by a large man.
A PeNiS member stepped forward.
"Okay, Mr. Foster, thatz Him!"
The big man stepped forward.
"I'm Joe Fred Foster. And you ain't going to be helping Constantine
out today, tomorrow, or any day."
I hated violence, but it was time for action. I whipped out my
trusty tiny purple fish - only to find something called a "virus" in its
place. My weapons were of no use here in Cyberspace, and Joe Fred Foster
was closing in......
<To Be Continued!>
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How I Got in Touch with my Inner Feelings about
My Cross-Dressing Multiple Personalities
by Newt
I have hit a new low in my life. Becoming addicted to a
chat is really nothing to be ashamed of considering PU's
audience, and any rumors you have heard about the incriminating
incident with the chainsaw are completely untrue. Heck, I'm one
of only three women in the country who HASN'T slept with Bill
Clinton (the others, of course, are Hillary and Angela Lansbury.)
However, it has taken me a few weeks of intensive counseling to
be able to admit this: I have become addicted to talk shows.
Oh, it started out so innocently; I couldn't get a summer
job and didn't have a car. The only thing to do after I
refinished the kitchen floor and painted the garage roof was to
watch television, and now I cannot stop. Oprah, Donahue, Sally,
Ricki, and <gasp!> even Geraldo now fill my days! The tales of
mothers who strip to keep their children from joining the Nazi
party fascinate me. I am enthralled by lesbians who impersonate
Elvis, and frankly, the show on hermaphrodites who marry their
foster parents has changed my life. But I cannot stop! Oh, the
joys of hearing people with IQ's even lower than that of your
average politician talk about their inner being on national TV!
To know that I can turn kitchen appliances into beautiful jewelry
gives me something to wake up for. To hear Kato Kaelin's
testimony about the thumps and the bloody glove daily makes me
feel that I am in touch with current events.
Oh, don't underestimate me; I AM embarrassed. When I
started shaking uncontrollably and talking about my inner child
with a glazed look in my eyes, I knew I had gone too far. I cut
back dramatically on my viewing time. I even saw sunlight for
the first time in three weeks yesterday when I went outside and
had a conversation about the Presley-Jackson marriage with my
mailman.
I know I can get better; I know my condition is not fatal.
My life doesn't have to revolve around the next episode of
Bertice Berry, and Jerry Springer's words of wisdom no longer
have to have religious significance to me. I am trying to take
it day by day and to keep busy, I'm reading books, seeing movies,
and next week I'm going on Geraldo with Hillary and Angela to
talk about why Bill turned us down.
=================================================================
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Aquarius' Joke Corner!
[It's due to popular demand. You can hate us all you want.
--editor]
What do you get when you cross a rabbit with a chipmunk?
A mess.
Why did the leprechaun kiss his pot of gold?
I don't know.
Knock knock...
Who's there?
Paul.
Paul who?
Paul Smith.
Why did the baby cross the road?
It was stapled to the chicken.
Why did the lifeguard make a sand castle?
For the hell of it.
Wasn't that funny, boys and girls?
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COMING SOON...
-- The stunning conclusion to the Dystropia/Fear and Loathing
crossover! The megaverse will never be the same! Well, at
least, it'll be kinda different. Maybe.
-- Malakai's Black Death, the beginning of a new serial for
people who like blood. Lots of it.
-- He's back, and he's got poetry! It's Psychotic Ambition's
poetry feature-- and we take NO RESPONSIBILITY for what it
may do to your psyche. None. Period. Just wanted to get
that straight right now.
-- Defenestrations galore!
=================================================================
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D I S T R I B U T I O N
Call these boards, or we'll personally come around to your houses,
drag you out by the scruff of the neck, and give you a good
beating. Unless you'd enjoy that, in which case we'll just make
you watch OJ Trial footage until your head explodes.
And for letters, comments and rants, don't forget the Propaganda
Mailbox at Internet address PULETTERS@AOL.COM!
Board Phone
--------------------------- --------------
Strangeways Asylum (312) 588-4231 (Headquarters)
Legion of the Undead (708) 546-4605
The Ice Palace (708) 635-0953
Big Bob's Leech Burger Farm (708) 838-1015
MicroInformation Systems (805) 251-0564
Dark Globe (815) 363-1351
