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The Neo-Comintern 098
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t h e n e o - c o m i n t e r n e l e c t r o n i c m a g z i n e
I n s t a l l m e n t N u m b e r 9 8
LANOITANRETNI ht5 EHT ERA EW - WE ARE THE 5th INTERNATIONAL
0002 ,ht11 hcraM - March 11th, 2000
CMB :rotidE - Editor: BMC
:sretirW - Writers:
goC - Cog
CMB - BMC
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;P Featured in this installment .b
$ $
$ I Feel Wanted- Cog $
$ Unusual Circumstances- BMC $
`q p'
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EDITOR'S NOTE
Just a second here, cause I'd like to take a quick paragraph to
mention something that I hate. There are a few people who end e-mails by
saying "cheers!" and I would like to ask them to stop. It's really
annoying, because I feel like you're trying to trick me into thinking that
we're having a drink together. I know we're not having a drink together.
Maybe you're not trying to trick me, but if that's the case then you must
think that the words that you hammer out on your keyboard are of such immense
value that I will drink of them as though they were the sweetest honey mead.
Well let me tell you something. The email was pretty good, but it was
definitely no goblet of wine. You're a nice person, so I'm not going to
kill you, but please stop saying cheers or I will have to kick your ass.
Sincerely,
BMC
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;P I FEEL WANTED .b
`q by Cog p'
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You might have noticed that I haven't written for awhile. Well, you
know how I usually bitch about stuff, and about how stupid my life is?
Here's the problem:
I have no complaints right now.
What does this mean, you ask? Well, it means a lack of subject
matter for starters. I mean, I'm not unemployed or unemployable anymore. My
car actually worked for awhile! I found a bunch of Wiccap0rn. And I haven't
looked at the Hampsterdance site for, like, TWO WHOLE WEEKS!
I thought that perhaps my days of writing for the enn-comm were sadly
over. I thought I might have to pass the torch on to some young hero-
worshipper of mine. I thought I might get killed off. You've read this
thing! You know it happens! BMC has no regard for human life. That SICK
FUCK! I'M FUCKING DEFOOOOORRRRRMMMMED!
Something happened at work today, howe'er, and it struck me as...
well ...odd. You see, I work at a computer store whose name I must not
mention until I get fired. My basic day to day thing is selling computers,
taking phone calls, and trying to convince myself that Kennedy is alive.
You've probably gone through that routine yourself, right?
Well, right in the middle of theorizing that it was really a Robot
Kennedy that was shot, I got a sales call. That WAS NOT out of the ordinary.
The resulting call, alas, was something that I would not wish upon anyone who
works, lives, nor banks near a telephone. I'm still not quite sure what the
hell it was about -- not even three hours later.
It started off fairly normal: "Hi, this is Bo. You sold my friend a
computer a couple of weeks ago. You know... the big Indian who paid all in
hundred dollar bills?"
At this point I'm like, "Shit. It broke. It never worked. Those
guys are gonna come and kick my ass, which I really don't want to happen cuz
the one guy is a big Indian who pays in cash and I'm quite AFRAID of the
larger of the aborigine race; especially when they're really angry at me...!"
Like I said, it started off as nothing out of the ordinary. I get like six
of those calls a day, and I spend most of my time cowering from what I have
termed "repeat business".
I said, "Is there a problem with the system?" to which he responded,
"No..! In fact, it works great! He couldn't be happier with it! In fact,
I'd kinda like one for myself!"
"This is good," I thought to myself. "I shall live to breathe yet
another day's air!" He even asked for a price on the same system his friend
bought, which I provided in a timely manner. Then he asked an odd question:
"So, [Cog], would you like to make alot of money?"
...to which I blurted out, "Yes, of course sir! Money is something
that must be exchanged for goods, and considering the society that I live in,
it is something that indeed has my support!"
"Well, give me your home phone number."
(What, is this guy into porns and sexy-phone?) "What is this
regarding, sir? I can't give out my home phone number or I'll... be...
fired...?"
"Well, I'll give you mine but DO NOT phone it from work!!"
(HOLY SHIT! This guy wants to touch my penis like a man possessed!)
"Sure, okay. Yep. 2-4-6-5? Got it. What is this regarding sir?" He said
something about having to listen to a 30-minute conference call, and that it
would explain everything. I don't know about you, but the only conference
calls I consider listening to are the kind where at least two women are
putting fingers into their Secret Places and swearing at me. Then he said
something else that topped the rest thus far:
"Since I've been here I haven't been happier! We'll get you all set
up, and then I'll come into the store and buy a computer from you."
WHERE THE FUCK IS "HERE"?! WHY IS HE HAPPY? ...Should I sell my
soul for the $25.50 in commission I'll make from this sale? He tells me to
leave a message on his answering machine tonight, because he won't be home.
But it's long distance so I decide I will not phone. He then asks me what my
schedule is next week, and I decide not to tell him. I don't want him to
show up at work, put a black hood over my head, abduct me, take me into the
bushes and make me touch his Thing.
I quickly get off the phone and tell a few co-workers, who then make
fun of me. They bug me about being wanted by a cult and mean stuff like
that. Bastards. I go to the store-room and cry bitter tears.
I got his name off the Call Display, so when he called back, I had
the receptionist converse as per the following:
"Is [Cog] there?"
"Who?"
"[Cog]!"
"I'm... I'm sorry sir. It's just that.. just..."
"What is it lady?"
"Well, sir.. The only [Cog] I know died twenty years ago TONIGHT."
This guy is probably so confused and scared right now! I'll bet that
he's sorry that he ever tried to mess with me! HA HA HA HA THE END.
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;P UNUSUAL CIRCUMSTANCES .b
`q by BMC p'
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If I could be any nonmaterial thing in the world, I would have to
choose to be a circumstance. God, I love those things! I wouldn't just be
any circumstance, though. Oh no, I would be an unusual circumstance.
I can think of no greater joy in life than being the one thing that
completely fucks everyone up. Nobody knows what to do in unusual
circumstances, because they are just so... unusual, and I bet most people
would be equally clueless about what to do if they had the opportunity to
be an unusual circumstance. What would you do if you were an unusual
circumstance? (turn page)
If I were an unusual circumstance, I'd probably start by cutting
gravity in half. Then things wouldn't fall so quickly. Goodness, that would
be zany! I think that would mess with about half of the population of the
worlds. Everybody would be bouncing around, and the people who were indoors
would all bump their heads!
After I was done doing that I would start turning the sun off and on
really fast like Cog was annoyingly doing to my lightswitch the other day.
What would you do? (turn page)
Come on, tell me. Listen, I'm not going to just sit here and wait,
I'm getting pretty hungry, and that's making me mad (at you). Ok listen, I
didn't want to do this, but I'm going to OH Ok hey I get it. You'd stop
talking to me and walk away? If you were a circumstance, right? That's a
good one. Hey, come back please!
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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 at: http://members.home.com/comintern |
| Email BMC at: thebmc@home.com |
|___________________________________________________|
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Copyright 2000 by The Neo-Comintern #98-03/11/00
All content is property of The Neo-Comintern.
You may redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the
content must not be altered or modified in any way. Unauthorized use of any
part of this document is prohibited. All rights reserved. Made in Canada.
