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The Hogs of Entropy 0848
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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #848
`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
888 888 888 888 888 "Not An Addict"
888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
888 888 888 888 888 " by Draykonis
888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 9/24/99
o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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"What are you doing?"
"I'm making a t-file."
"Oh, what's that?"
"That means a text file."
"What for?"
"For the hell of it. I found this E'zine that is really kick ass,
and I want to be in it."
"And all you have to do is make one of these 'T-files'?"
"Well, no, I have to make one good enough that they will print it."
"So what is yours about?"
"I don't know yet but I want it to be funny and witty and I don't
know, just cool."
"Okay, babe."
Now I knew my friend was crazy, cos those weird "electro-magazines"
thingies are almost always exclusively run by some "elite" little clique
that wouldn't let you write for their all important zine if you were, I
don't know, Jack Kerouac. Nope, no e'zine for you....
So how do you break into one of those little cliques? Do you have to
know the right people? I mean, here was this friend working his ass off to
get into some e'zine, that knowing him, no one has ever heard of, and his
only hope was his own innate writing abilities. Good luck I told him. But
what I was really saying was "Not a snowball's chance in Hell, my friend."
But yet he continued to type away.
Let's examine his personality shall we?
Okay, he spends fully a third of his life in front of the damn
computer. He drinks massive amounts of Coke, and eats whatever food happens
to be left near him. I can't even believe that he has drawn himself away
from his Internet porn long enough to type anything at all. He keeps
talking about what a great thing the 'Net is and how happy he is. I haven't
really seen him do anything truly constructive with it yet. I mean, who
needs 1200 bookmarks for different Ani DiFranco pages? I see him looking up
his fave bands all night, maybe he'll get onto the Undernet for a while,
occasionally I catch him checking his email, but otherwise....
Doesn't it get boring?
Yet, he never seems to stop. Everytime someone mentions the 'Net, he
gets this look in his eye that suggests he would die if it ever went away,
yet once he sits at a computer, he seems like a zombie, slowly switching
between the same ten web pages a night. He wants to think that his life is
great, that he is some sort of Neo-Pagan, intelligent, nature-loving, fun,
happening, loveable kind of guy. Then life comes crashing down upon him as
he realizes that he's wasting away in front of a computer, in a relationship
with someone who will never be able to love him the same way he loves her,
that he's just some slob who can't write his way out of a subscription card,
who can't ever seem to do anything right, who is just intelligent enough to
know that that last statement is what we call self-pity, who will never
amount to anything, and probably still won't get into this stupid e'zine. I
mean, that stupid e'zine that, you know, he is, uh, trying to get into.....
Yup. My friend certainly has some problems. Did I mention he drinks
a lot?
You know what I hate? Stories that have no point, and those dumb
stories about somebody's friend when you know damn well that the friend is
fictional and it is just their pitiful attempt at hiding their own failings.
Pathetic.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #848 - WRITTEN BY: DRAYKONIS - 9/24/99 ]
