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The Internet Sux Issue 01
Issue 0001: "A static free start." The Internet Sux
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Hi mogel.
Im going to start a new zine.
Its got a really krad name.
Well not really.
But I have some great ideas.
Well not really.
But it will get you girls.
Well only if they are drunk and ugly.
But I think you will like it.
Maybe. I call it, "The Internet Sux".
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... and so it began ...
After finding myself treading water in the sea of life I decided it
was time to make a serious change in my future. That change of course
would come in something so amazingly new and creative that it would
be heralded for ages. Well that change has come and gone and now I
find myself left with more of the same. Which when you think about it
isn't so bad... is it not all more of the same? Just another day? Just
another Meal? Just another Web Page? Just another Date Rape? Just...
I think you understand where I am coming from. If you don't then
please get the help you need with ending your existence. Not that I
have any anger in me or anything but blame flows from my fingers like
rhetoric flows from our wondrous countries political leaders. Oh yeah
did I mention I was a sell out?
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"Sunny Days/Loving Ways"
There are but two known loves in the universe. The joy of being
loved and the joy of giving love. Sure those were pretty weak
definitions. She knew that, but her faith in them went untested.
Until today. Until this very moment she had always believed in the
truth of love, the power, the warmth. Today was a cold day. But
then again it wasn't.
Much like any other day Sue Ellen had clamored out of bed as
the alarm chimed the start of a new day. Stumbling into the shower
she had nary a clue that her world would suddenly come crashing
down. Slipping into her favorite sun dress she made her way down to
the corner to wait for the bus. Standing there. Her back against the
Wall. She noticed him.
He, him, had come strolling up from 3rd Street. He, him, had never
stood at this particular bus stop. She was sure of that. Dressed in a
sweater and a nice pair of slacks she liked everything about him that
she could see. He turned. She moved her eye down. Back up. They met.
They held. He smiled.
For a brief second they stood locked in an eternal bliss. The sun
was brighter, the cares washed away. Time. Oceans of tranquility. The
bus.
The arrival of the bus broke their lock on each other's eyes. She
plotted sitting next to him on the bus. Her day had arrived. They
boarded and with a skillful twist she managed to seat herself next
to him. She turned and smiled. He smiled back.
They rode in silence until the next stop. Where he rose. Starting
to yell at the top of his lungs he preached, "I love you all but for
your sins you must die." With that he tore his coat open exposing the
bomb underneath. He reached his hand for the switch...
... and with that she knew the love of religion...
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Please note the lack of senseless zine posturing. This has been
reserved for a future time when there is nothing else worth writing
about.
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I am an anarchist.
http://www.freenet.edmonton.ab.ca/~bts/splos.htm
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I was going to put in some obnoxious rant from some net.luser about
the benefits of animal sex. But I broke my mouse. My middle button
doesn't work anymore. I can't paste. Do you know how frustrating it
is to lose the use of the middle mouse button under X? Oh wait. The
far right button is gone as well. So here I sit a X quadriplegic.
Moving the mouse around in utter futility. Knowing that... you are
feeling the shortcomings of my failures. I guess that makes us a
bit closer on some spirtual level. Heh. Yhea right.
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When techno appears in an eye-glasses commercial... well then it will
have made "it"!
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Statistics:
75% of all movies are PG-13. (Based on a sampling of movies viewed
on cable in the past two weeks)
99% of all written material is crap. (Based on an analysis of junk
email)
15% of all statistics are made up. (The rest are based on careful
sorting)
86.3% of the letters in this zine are real.
100% of the people in Boston, suck.
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http://www.futurefate.com/graphics/predict/armpred.shtml
From the Millennium 2000 Report:
In churches and twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, from
the flickering television screen fundamentalist preachers
relentlessly exhort untold millions of viewers around the planet
that we are living in the biblical "end times," with Armageddon to
take place around the year 2000...
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Required Reading:
URL: http://altavista.digital.com/
Search: +kill +whitey
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Orbital: The Box
http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Towers/8334/thebox.html
Shares his neighbors with a building
Knows addresses of by heart
Draws a picture of his future
Keeps the paper close at hand
Packs his tongue into a suitcase
Suffers terror on the train
And he wants to start a movement
Cause he's undestructible
Destructible...suffers terror on the train
He's indestructible
And you know they'll never find us
And they'll leave us aline
And if we just keep on talking
Then we'll still make it home
There's commotion and promotion
Now they've done good ever war
Sell our pictures to a paper
Now that everyone must know
Trading satellites for substance
let spectators pay their wat
We'll invade the trevi fountain
Now that everyone must pay
Mama and babies mothers tragedy
Babies mothers tragedy
Babies mothers tragedy
Terrifies the kill
Vocals by Alison Goldfrapp and Fultanno Mauder
- What did that teach us?
That lyrics in techno/house/ambient/etc... are just as stupidly
written as pop lyrics. Oh well. At least the music is good.
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The Internet Sux (0001) (c) 1997 y (juuri@well.com)
All references URLs are (c) their respective authors, or something.
