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The Neo-Comintern 143
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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 1 4 3
We Are the New International
February 25th, 2001
Editor: BMC
Writers:
Gnarly Wayne
BMC
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;P Featured in this installment .b
$ $
$ Jibbitty Jabber - Gnarly Wayne $
$ 16th Century Jests For 21st Century People- BMC $
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EDITOR'S NOTE
(please do not read the following)
It is not often that we have two articles in the Neo-Comintern that
are as similar to each other as these two are. Both are bold attacks on
today's society and both jibbitty-jab at your funny bone. It's amazing.
It's like that time that there were two articles by me and Gnarly
Wayne and they were both funny and stupid and... wait, that was this issue.
No, wait, that IS this issue.
This issue is almost like every other issue we've done so far, but
it is especially like this issue. Almost exact, except for this little mark
right here --------.
|
"~" |
^ |
^ |
| `--------. .--------------------------.
`---. | | |
| | | |
| | | .------------------'
.--------------|-----------' |
| | | |
`--' | |
`-------------------'
So like it or love it, the choice is yours.
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;P JIBBITTY JABBER... NO NO... NOT YOUR FUNNY BONE .b
`q by Gnarly Wayne p'
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"More Tang?" asked Sir Whitman.
"What?" said the Other.
"Is your brain just a box or can it be opened and things stored
within it?" pressed Sir Whitman.
"Oh, I see your point now," and they laughed and they laughed and
they laughed until their wives got home.
"Hey! What the hell is going on here? Laughing?" scorned the wives.
"uhhhhh.....yeah?" replied Other.
They all blurst out into laughter, except the wives, who were really
pissed off.
The wives tore off their business suits, revealing a witches garb
underneath.
"A ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha," cackled the witches. You know how like
witches cackle? Well, yeah, it's just like that sentence up there.
The witch-wives cast a spell upon our two heroes. Sir Whitman
go nothing done to him, but Other's fate was much much worse! Other was now
known as Smee! He is one of being Other no longer! Be Smee! Be Smee!
"Noooooooooooo!" said Smee.
"Hey, it's not so bad, Smee," said Sir Whitman. "Check this shit
out. Now your name is one letter smaller. Whenever paper and ink are used
in your name now, it will save on ink, which in turn will save the
environment and lower oil prices. You are actually a hero, Smee!"
Three days later at the Smee parade, the witch-wives cackled in the
bleachers.
And just like most great men, Smee was assassinated while taking a
big ole shit in the shitter.
Sir Whitman quickly called the town emergency phone number,
1-900-LLCOOLJ.
"Hello, 1-900-LLCOOLJ?"
"This is 1-900-LLCOOLJ."
"1-900-LLCOOL?"
"Yo."
"We gots problems at the ole sawmill!"
"Let me tell you what I do when I'm chillin' in my crib."
"No, it's an emergency."
"Yo."
"Grrrrrr," Sir Whitman growled and hung up the phone. "Looks like
I'll never be able to resurrect Smee. Oh well, poop on him."
Sir Whitman was last seen driving northbound on route 66. If anyone
happens to see him, please tell him to come home so that I can finish the
story. Thank you.
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;P 16TH CENTURY JESTS FOR 21ST CENTURY PEOPLE .b
`q by BMC p'
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The 16th century was a time of hope and innocence, and I think that the
people of the 21st century can learn something from the people of that time.
Our day is one of pain and anguish, but the 1500's were different: they
were times of hospitality and love of life, and I believe that to be entirely
due to the style of language and the jokes of the era.
In the 16th century there was a punishment of death and a fifty dollar fine
for anyone who could not tell a good joke, and that is why people didn't
spend their time trading stocks and employing people at minimum wage. There
was no war or ignorance or sickness or death in those times, just a society
filled with jesters and other funnies. Work was secondary and this is
reflected in the high level of sophistication in that era's wit.
We of the 21st century need desperately to return to that distant time, and
to help with the transition I have written a few sample jokes for all of you
to take notes on and then you can begin composing some of your own. These
are relevant to 21st century life, and I am sure you will be delighted by
the truth and sincerity that they hold.
There was a man of Gotam the which dyd buy for hys computere a
mouse. Whan hee returned home, hee dyd say to it, a horson synce thou art a
mouse thou art in danger of beyng consumed by the cat. And hee dyd kyll and
flaye the cat. And to thys daye, the cat dyd not eate the mouse.
Thaere was a man of Gotam that had the smok of the cracke in an
abandyoned buylding. Hee was smokyng whan hys rocke dropd throvgh the
boardes of the floor. A horson, sayed he, it hath falln through the cracke
wherefore I cannot care for it.
A busynes man of Gotam dyd walke aborde an ayrplane. Hee became
anger and sayd he, if thov art ayrplane then thov art of plane ayr and
therfor I canst not see thee. But hee dyd see it.
Theare was a yongue man of Gotam the which should go woing to a
yongue fair maid and he achyued AIDS. A venguance upon it, sayde hee, it is
no aid to me but in sooth a hyndreance. Than the man procedyd to woo the
younge fair maid.
On a tyme theare was a man of Gotham and he did bvy at Nottyngeham
a shandalier. And as he carryd it sayde he, a horson, thou art supposed to
be lyght, but thou art indeede heauy. Thou hast not done thy job and art
trvely fyred. He than set fyre to it.
Can you hear it? There is a new sound in the air. It is the sound of peace
and wisdom, and the jokes are the exact tools that we need to help forge
the way to a brighter future. So I urge you to learn this style and to
create manuscripts of your own intellectual masterpieces. The opportunity
is yours, so take control and join forces with all of the other 16th
century jest-tellers of the world to help make it a better place for
everyone.
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|___________________________________________________|
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Copyright 2001 by The Neo-Comintern #143-02/25/01
All content is property of The Neo-Comintern.
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