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The Neo-Comintern 022
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E-MAG
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The Neo-Comintern Installment 22
We are The 5th International
June 7th, 1998
Editor: BMC
Assistant Editor: Komrade B
Writers:
Komrade B
BMC
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Featured in this installment:
Editors Note-BMC
Assistant Editors Note- Komrade B
London to Saskatoon- BMC
Life In Da Millz- Komrade B
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EDITORS NOTE
Ok, you know how I made the journey back from London to Saskatoon,
and here's the stiggy stiggy ory for for you to read. Oh and Komrade B is
back, and he has a message to tell.
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Supreme Editor's Note
Ah Sheeat. Were back in full offensive and all the da rest of you
e-mag writers can quit now because were getting 10000 hits a day on our page
just above our projected amount that we predicted at this time. So in joy
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LONDON TO SAKSATOON
By BMC
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London.
Well, for those of you who don't know, I have returned to fair
Saskatoon, the city of night. I left London town a week before that, and in
that time I learned some odds and ends about the country below us.
First of all, it sucks.
So, I started in London and headed south to Niagra Falls. I had to
take a whiz when we were at the falls. That really sucked, because there
were billions of litres of water falling freely within my range of vivid
sight and sound. The worst part was how the mist kept on me like a light
rain. If you have to piss, let me tell you; Niagra Falls is not the place
for you.
After I pissed, Niagra Falls was fun again. We went up and down
Clifton Hill, the home of family fun centers, houses of horror and many
museums. We went to the Ripley's Believe It Or Not place and aquired some
very useful information. For instance, there was this rad dude named Liu
Ch'ung who had two sets of pupils. He was cool.
Then it was time to cross the Niagra border to the EU. I have had
scary border-crossing experiences in the past, and I was slightly fearful.
On the other side of Niagra Falls (the crappy side), I pulled some
money out of an instant teller. An old machine, it was. There was severe
screen burn-in, and the buttons were like old telephone buttons. Oh, and
some of them were missing. Welcome to "the states".
That night quickly became uneventful. The only fun part was when my
girlfriend drove the wrong way down a one way interstate freeway.
Cleveland was the next cool place where we stopped. We went to the
Rock 'N Roll hall of fame (we never actually went in, though). We went to
various kinds of merchandise vendors, and we even got to play the shells game
with some hep catson the street corner.
The thing I found to be so interesting about Cleveland was the huge
sculpture of a rubber stamp with the word "FREE" written on the pad. The
sculpture was in front of city hall, or perhaps some other type of building
of significance. The other interesting thing was the fact that if you want
to get a spot in a parkade to see "FREE", it will cost you $2.50 per 1/4 hour
in downtown Cleveland. For me, anyway, the word "paradox" seems to come to
mind.
The next night we stayes in hell knows who where, and the next night
we drove through Chicago into hell knows who where again because we loved it
so much the first time.
Sometime during all of that, we stopped in Jamestown, Indiana (or
someplace very close to it), where we bought a full grocery bag of fireworks
and firecrackers, in an assortment which ranged from legal to illegal. That
was cool.
Sometime after all of that, we went to Wisconsin Dells, Wisconsin,
where we did several things, including miniature golfing, and driving
Go-Karts around and through a life-sized replication of the Trojan Horse.
We also went to Blue Earth, Minnesota; home of the world's largets
Jolly Green G-I-A-N-T statue. It's 55 1/2 feet tall (including the base).
If you ever go there, look for the statue in "Green Giant Statue Park".
We got bored and went to South Dakota, where we saw things such as:
-South Dakota's original 1880 town
-The Badlandz
-Wall Drug
-Mount Rushmore
-Crazy Horse
-Deadwood
-Probably some other stuff too
So we decided that we had seen enough statues, museums, and tourist
souvenier stores. It was time to return to the city of night. We got back
to the border, but we ran out of gas and had to sleep outside of a gas
station until it opened. We finally got gas at around 6 in the morning, so
we were too tired to get back to Saskatoon. We slept in Weyburn, the
hometown of my father, W.O. Mitchell, and we woke up at 5pm and got to the
city at about 9:30.
From border to border, there were a few things I learned, and a few
that I'd confirmed. The most of which being that Canada is like heaven
when compared to the EU. Not only are we better in terms of politics and
general way of life, but we are also "up there", like god. And, of all of
the shitty cities and towns I have seen, our shitty town is my favorite.
Saskatoon.
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LIFE IN DA MILLZ
By Komrade B
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It seems the my other star studded co-writers have wrought to screen
their chilhood upbringing, and so I shalt also attempt to illistrate the
terror, the anger, the fear, the bleeding, and yes, the love that was my
childhood.
My father was a drunkard, a flamboyant flop who wore lavish outfits.
He would booze, smoke, and sodomize the young french prostitutes on the Loire
river east of gay Pari in those busy times of the early 1890's. I was,
suffice it to say, the son of a whore named Cloe, but that is all I ever knew
of her. That was from my father, and his sources are not reliable.
Suffice it to say, I was raised by my grandfather in a little Chateau
in the wine country of southern France. I was pulled out of school at the
tender age of six, and sent to work in the vineyards. When I was insolent I
was forced to walk to the nearby woods and cut myself a switch so that he
could beat me. Then I would sleep on the road that wound through the
chateaux. Sometimes my father would stop by and take me to the local
alchemist to see if he could turn any part of me into solid GOLD! Failing
that, I would take fantastic journies to far away isles to battle Sea
monsters and barter with the mystical sea elves.
I came to the United States during the roaring twenties and fought
for the cause of communism, but everyone was rich, and would not listen to
the ideas. I laughed in that day of October 1929 when the market crashed,
and the lessons I taught were finally learned.
I returned home to Moscow to sip cognac with Stalin, and stablize the
government against the White Army and the Monster insurrects in the Ural
mountains. Though Stalin was the leader, I was the star. My blonde curly
locks and a carefree attitude made me a national hero. My greatest moment
was getting Mao in to power and creat ing the Chinese Communist Party. All
this accomplished at the tender age of 13.
I thence returned to North America to spread the love and truth of
Marx's word. Giving up on The united States as a land of dissidents, I came
to Canada, but when I left, the BMC let the whole damn eastern block crumble.
Ah, well, I can always return to those great times, and right which
has gone so terribly wrong. Thank you
The end.
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___________________________________________________
|THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S |
|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
| BRING ON THE NIGHT (306) 373-4218 |
| CLUB PARADISE (306) 978-2542 |
| THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME (306) 373-9778 |
|___________________________________________________|
|Website http://www.sfn.saskatoon.sk.ca/~ad357 |
|Email The BoSS MC at manta1@hotmail.com |
|___________________________________________________|
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Copyright (c) 1998 Comintern Publications and The Boss MC
All Rights Reserved. #22-6/7/98
17:11:10
