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J _| J |__| L '-__| L J \| L J |___: J |--| L ______
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F |__-. F L__J J .-____] J F L\\ J F L____: F L__J J L______J
\_____/J__L J__LJ\______/F J__L \\__LJ________LJ\______/F
J_____F|__L J__| J______F |__L J__||________| J______F
___ ____ __ __ __ _ _ ____ ____. _ _
,"___". F _ ] F \/ ] / J F L L] F___ ] F___ J _ ___ F L L]
FJ---L] J |/ | L J |\__/| L LFJ J \| L'--7 / '-__| L J '__ ",J \| L
J | LJ | | /| | | |'--'| | J L | |\ | / // |__ ( | |__|-J| |\ |
| \___--. F /_J J F L J J J L F L\\ J J L.-____] J F L '-'F L\\ J
J\_____/FJ\______/FJ__L J__LJ__LJ__L \\__LJ__LJ\______/FJ__L J__L \\__L
J_____F J______F |__L J__||__||__L J__||__| J______F |__L |__L J__|
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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 5 4
We Are the New International
May 13th, 2001
Editor: BMC
Writers:
linear
aster
Heckat
Margarina Cataclysma
Junior Haagis
Cog
Gnarly Wayne
BMC
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P Featured in this installment .b
$ $
$ Green Light - linear $
$ blue boy - aster $
$ Happy Purple is Not for Me - Heckat $
$ White - Margarina Cataclysma $
$ Nazi-Bred Super Hue - Junior Haagis $
$ Nobody Better Pick My Colour - Cog $
$ Clear - Gnarly Wayne $
$ Red Red Red - BMC $
`q p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
EDITOR'S NOTE
(please do not read the following)
Welcome to our special colour issue! In its honour, I have drawn
the colour wheel in ASCII. I'm pretty sure it looks like this:
_____________
/\ /\
/ \ white / \
/ \ / \
/ red \ / grey \
/__ \ / __\
| ---___ \ / ___--- |
| --_-- |
| clear _ purple |
| ___-- --___ |
|___--- / \ ---___|
\ / \ /
\ blue / \ gren /
\ / \ /
\ / fuchsia \ /
\/___________\/
And even if it doesn't look like that... it should.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P GREEN LIGHT .b
`q by linear p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
Peter stopped his car at the stoplight, and turned to Paul.
"My life sucks, Paul. I think that's my problem. My life just
fucking sucks. I don't have any friends - well, except you I guess. You're
my friend. But besides you, I don't have any friends, I don't have a job,
I'm failing nearly every class, well, almost. Not history. But that's just
because the teacher thinks I'm a lot smarter than I am. That's another
reason my life sucks - I'm not that smart."
"Shutup, Pete. It's really not that bad. We've all been there."
"But you don't understand! It IS that bad! I'm sick of it. I'm
sick of not knowing where my place... I'm sick of not fitting in, Paul.
God, I hate this light. It always takes forever."
"Yeah. But listen stop being so depressing. I hate depressing
people. It bugs. It's really not that bad."
"That's just it! No one knows how bad it is for me! Sure, you say
it's not that bad. It ISN'T that bad, for you! But it is for me! I wish I
could be like all those happy mindless morons who can just be happy all the
time and---"
"Are you calling me a moron?"
"No, it's just---"
"Shutup, Pete. Stop being so depressing."
"I'm so sick of this."
"Yeah."
"Maybe that's my problem! Maybe that's why people don't like me,
you know? Maybe I'm just too god damn depressing! Maybe that's it!"
"Whatever, Pete."
"No, you were right. I'm going to stop being so depressing. You
are totally right, Paul, it really isn't so bad..."
"Uh-huh."
"This is it, I'm going to totally change my life around, right now,
right here at 10th St. and Pine! This is fucking it! I'm going to be
happier, and I'll have more friends, which will make me even happier, which
will make me stop being so apathetic, and you know, maybe I'll do better in
school! Hell, maybe I'll got get a job!"
"Why are you being so ridiculous? And will you fucking step on the
gas? The light has been green for a while!"
"This is it! For once in my life, I'm going to---"
Just then, a huge diesel truck ran a red light, and slammed into the
side of Peter's car. Within seconds, the area reaked of metal, rubber, and
blood. Peter was killed instantly. Paul died later in the hospital.
-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-
Okay, Okay! I know, I cheated you guys out of a color article! I
can't get anything past you! I know, mentioning the color ONCE in the text
is not enough. But I can make it up to you, baby! I swear it. So here's
what I'm going to do...
You see, I'm a big TEA FAG. Yes, I like tea very much. And what is
my favorite type of tea? Well, GREEN TEA, of course! So, For you enjoyment,
included with this silly tale of dead people who tried to change their life,
I've added this AMAZING BONUS TEXT!
AMAZINGBONUSTEXTAMAZINGBONUSTEXTAMAZINGBONUSTEXTAMAZINGBONUSTEXT
!LINEAR'S PATENTED GREEN TEA RECIPIES!
AMAZINGBONUSTEXTAMAZINGBONUSTEXTAMAZINGBONUSTEXTAMAZINGBONUSTEXT
Cool combinations of iced teas, fruit juices and fruit syrups,
shaken until cold and frothy, poured into a tall cool glass, then garnished
with fruit, mint leaves, etc.
Iced tea recipes from tea concentrates
For each tea concentrate, steep 12 tea bags in 4 cups of boiling water.
Squeeze tea bags to retain all of the liquid. Cool concentrate in the
refrigerator at least 3 hours and up to 2 weeks.
Green Tea Ginger Sparkler
-------------------------
*1 1/3 cups tea concentrate
*1/4 cup finely chopped crystallized ginger
*2 2/3 cups chilled ginger ale
*Ice cubes
Combine ginger and tea concentrate while still hot and refrigerate for at
least three hours. Strain and discard ginger. Pour concentrate and ginger
ale into ice filled glasses. Makes 4 servings.
Papaya Nectar Green Tea
-----------------------
*1 1/3 cups tea concentrate
*1 1/3 cups Papaya Nectar
*3 Tsp. honey
*Ice cubes
Combine tea concentrate, papaya nectar and honey. Pour into ice filled
glasses. Makes 4 servings.
Green Banana Iced Tea
---------------------
*1 cup Stash Premium Green Tea
*1 cup Banana Pineapple Nectar
*Ice cubes
Place one tea bag of Stash Premium Green Tea into an 8 oz. cup. Pour
approximately 2 oz. (1/4 cup) boiling water into cup and steep for 4 to 6
minutes. Remove tea bag and fill cup to top with cold water. Mix with
banana pineapple nectar and ice. Makes on 16 oz. serving.
-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-
There, is that GREEN enough for you?
I hope so.
If not, deal with it.
See, it was a true TEA-FILE... get it? huh? huh?
GET IT? TEA-FILE? GET IT?
Oh God I suck.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P blue boy .b
`q by aster p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
"are my resolutions smart?"
"are what i say and what i do in sync?"
HEHAHAHEHAHEAHEA i giggle. look at the funny giggle questions!!
once upon a time there was a little boy with blue features. you know, blue
eyes, a blue nose, blue lips, blue skin, blue hair, blue teeth, blue tongue,
blue neck, blue face, blue ears, blue fingers, blue hands, blue wrists, blue
nails, blue elbows, blue forearms, blue arms, blue shoulders, blue armpits,
blue chest, blue chest-hair, blue tummy, blue belly button, blue spine, blue
back, blue head, blue behind!, blue front-part, blue thighs, blue shins,
blue knees, blue knee pits, blue legs, blue achilles tendon, blue heel, blue
soles of his feet, blue feet, blue toes, blue toenails, blue ankles.
hehe
so once day, this blue boy, with blue features, (blue eyes, etc.), made a
mixture of baking soda and water, and painted his skin and his blue walls
and his blue bed and everything white. he giggled and laughed and much
enjoyed the non-blueness of it all. then he fell asleep, tired from all
that painting, and it rained. and the next day he woke up and went outside
and looked at his beautiful white house.
but it wasnt white!! it was blue again!! that darned rain and washed away
all the baking soda. this made the little boy with blue features very sad.
he wanted a white house! he was sick of blue!! so the little boy traveled
to the hardware store and got some white paint. he went home and opened the
can of white paint.
but it was blue paint! they had marked the can incorectly! so he drowned
himself in blue paint and lost his whiteness.
the end.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P HAPPY PURPLE IS NOT FOR ME .b
`q by Heckat p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
Once this guy told me that his favourite colour was purple because
it was a mixture of the two best colours in the entire universe: red and
blue. Now, for all of those peoples out there who do not believe that red
and blue are the best two colours in the universe, I just want to tell you
not to get mad or write angry letters into the editor saying that this
article is prejudiced against all colours in the light spectrum except red
and blue - but I assure you that is not the case. The opinions in this
article are solely those of the guy I'm talking about and do not represent
those of this magazine or the writer of this article.
Anyway, back to the story. This guy defended his love of the colours
red and blue by launching into a metaphorical and figurative speech about
what the colours red and blue meant to him. Red, for instance, signified
passion, heat and fire (I know, I know, but don't blame me for his cliches,
I'm just the messenger). Blue, on the other hand, was the opposite. It
stood for disinterest, coldness, and ice. Purple, then, became the perfect
culmination of harmony between two diametrically opposed forces.
I thought his theory was shit and continued to think of purple as
the horrible watering-down of what was once pure and perfect. But then
again, I'm bi-polar and they haven't invented a colour that's rad enough for
me... yet.
THE END
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P WHITE .b
`q by Margarina Cataclysma p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
The thing about here that is so great
is that if you were just put here,
you wouldn't know where you are.
If, say, you just woke up
or were transplanted
beamed down
maybe you were running from a posse
and got ahead even of yourself
or your cattle were rustled
in the middle of the night...
If it weren't for the stars
and the set/rise of the sun
there'd be no reference...
so let's take away the reference:
maybe you're blown here,
without a rope,
trying to get to the barn in a blizzard.
or maybe you exist only in a snapshot
a frozen frame
the sun hangs there
time of day unknown
under the snow
in a series of tunnels
that know no orientation
and follow no pattern
save whim
is a mouse.
In every direction the sun reflects
and the short shadow turns with your boots.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P NAZI-BRED SUPER HUE .b
`q by Junior Haagis p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
Let us consider fuchsia for a moment, shall we? Bright, vibrant, exuberant.
It's vivid purplish-red hue is reminiscent a summer's day filled with
laughing children. Yet children's laughter is cruel and summer brings
thunderous storms of destruction and swimmer's rash. And thusly, fuchsia has
it's darker side as well.
Who knows what evil persists within it's complex blend of 10% magenta, 37%
yellow, and it's mesmerizing 53% of cyan. A taboo wherein man once more
snubbed the very nature around him, and forged ahead in pursuit of fame and
fortune. But take in the amount of atrocities and tragedies caused by this
malevolent hue over the ages. Just take a moment and do that.
Today, you see this abomination almost everywhere you look; drink coasters,
novelty tricks, bendy straws, clergy-wear. The evidence is overwhelming. And
yet it remains widely underrated and unnoticed. And yet it's effects remain
consistent. Check into it sometime.
Perhaps it's power is drawn from our complete ignorance of it's existence.
In
fact I'm putting everything into it that it's bitter hatred of mankind
originates from it's resentment that it doesn't have all the fancy things
that some other colors cherish like arms and ticklish earlobes and the
capacity to develop a really good bluegrass lawn.
So take heed, you fools. It could be in your thrift stores, your garage
bathrooms, or hidden away within lint. Check the cupboards, the space behind
the sink, and maybe even under your Mom. It's on a mission, you boob. Given
the evidence you've just heard (taking into account that someone just read
this to you out loud), can you really take this sitting down?!!
Holy shit, I'm ill..
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P NOBODY BETTER PICK MY COLOUR .b
`q by Cog p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
"Excuse me while I indulge myself..."
-Cog (when starting this article)
If the sharecroppers taught me one thing, it is that the value of a
life is nothing when compared to the value of a day's work. However, I am
of the opinion that the sharecroppers don't know the value of a day toiling
with one's own passions.
I woke up one day not so long ago to realize that I had stopped
caring about my one true passion (my girlfriend will kill me for saying
that...NOT THAT KIND OF PASSION, MY DEAR!). It is a place that I have
written about on many occasions, and visited many times. You have three
guesses.
Wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
Okay, you were right the first time. Factoria: City of Blight. I
realized that it had been months -- perhaps twelve of them -- since I had
done any research on this little 'burg that once had so intrigued me. When
I had the job at the convenience store (and moreso after I didn't), I would
spend some free time each week at the Local History Room at the main branch
of the Public Library. This Room is secreted away in a corner by the
(underappreciated) Vivaldi remixes. I would dig through stinky pictures of
my stinky city until I would find images whose scent was, to my mind, as
roses in a meadow. A meadow full of concrete steps, that is.
The information I discovered over time was more extensive than in
any of the novelty articles I had seen on Factoria in the weekend
supplemental newspaper that my rubby ass receives for free. I have
intensively investigated what remains of the townsite. I found the sandpit
used by the factories to make bricks and glass, the latter of the two being
used for bottles. Want to know what the bottles were for? Read on, True
Believer!
I found what's left of the spring used by that fucker Billy
Silverwood to make his "Silverspring Pure Spring Water" for the pussies in
Saskatoon, Nutana, and Riversdale during and beyond their dyptheria
outbreaks due to a contaminated river. I found the foundation of Billy's
hog barn; the waste of which eventually contaminated the spring putting
Billy (and Factoria) out of business. The irony is delicious...and hog
feces free!
I located where the foundation of the flour mill stood (it's in a
field behind an elementary school). The location of the hotel which may or
may not have had electricity is no longer lost to me. It is said that the
hotel didn't have power, but I have located photographs which clearly show
lightbulbs in this building (wishful thinking on their part, perhaps?). I
would have stayed there regardless. Or maybe not...but I maybe I would
have. One never know, right?
I found the surveyor's plan for residential lots in the town. Many
of these lots were bought, but to my knowledge, no construction ever took
place until well after Factoria's demise. The old advertizements said it was
"a great place to live". Yeah, if you call having a house amongst factories
and a hog barn living, I guess that just might be correct. I personally
agree.
Most importantly, however, I found a picture of Mr. Silverwood's
house. You know, the one that was attached to the concrete steps which
still stand? The steps which will one day shade my battered corpse from the
sin during its eternal death? Yeah, those ones. I am no closer to solving
the puzzle, though, because the picture is blurred and was taken from across
the river. I know the house was white, though!
So, yes...unlike the sharecroppers who once farmed the land on which
my house sits today, I know the value of a day spent toiling with one's own
passions. And whether you do or not, I know what my passion is. That is
why I pick grey as my colour for this issue; the grey of the crumbling
cement steps remaining in what's left of Factoria.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P CLEAR .b
`q by Gnarly Wayne p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
Pick a colour. Any colour. Now hold onto that colour in your mind
until you read the next paragraph.
Still got it? Good. I bet you 50 space bucks it wasn't clear, the
most misunderstood colour of them all. Some people don't even consider
clear a colour, but we all know that is ridiculous. However, clear is not
a colour that is often used or even mentioned. A shame really, since clear
is such a nice and aesthetically pleasing colour.
I remember my meeting with the C.E.O.'s of Crayola and told them I
had invented a new coloured crayon for them to use. I held the prototype in
my hand as the board members walked in. The bald guy with the yellow-green
tie said I was ridiculous because they had already gotten all the colours
into wax form. I called them bastards and informed them they had forgotten
one colour, perhaps the most important colour, as I held up my prototype for
clear. The woman in the off-pink dress said it was nothing but an empty
Crayola wrapper with the word white scribbled out and clear written in.
I called her a bastard too and threatened to take clear to their
competitors. They said they didn't have any and I believed them. I
certainly had never used anything but Crayola. As I slipped through the
door, I called them all bastards once more and made my way to the steetz to
implore to the citizens. Four hours later and about five hundred bastard
name callings later, I gave up and went home. I drew a picture of me
looking all sad and used clear for my tears.
The next morning, I pondered clear over breakfast. Perhaps clear
was a colour all to my own. Perhaps God wanted it that way. I had to find
out. I took out the cellie and dialed up the Heavenly Father.
"What up, dog?" said God.
"Heh heh... that rhymes," I said.
"Yeah, except all I really spoke was 'what up dog' and the 'god'
came after so I wouldn't have any clue what you were talking about if I
wasn't omnipotent," replied God.
"Yeah, but I know you are omnipotent and so I knew you would get
that joke," I smiled.
"You got me again, Wizzo. Even though you shouldn't because I
should know that you would have known that as well," confused God.
"Just shut up and listen. Is it 1993 and clear is all about me?"
I asked.
"No," said God.
I hung up and contemplated His words. Did he just mean it wasn't
1993, which is wasn't, or did he mean for me to wipe clear the eyes of
society and introduce them to my friend clear. I called up O'Shea Jackson
and asked him what I could do to help bring clear to the public eye. He
said he'd be in a rap group and he'd pick clear as his name. I told him to
get famous and he agreed with me. Then he sold out and just changed his
name to a clear object.
The burden of clear still rests upon my weary shoulders.
d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
;P RED RED RED .b
`q by BMC p'
`nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
RED! RED! RED!
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Shall I say more? There are lots of reasons why we should pray to
the colour red. If it wasn't for the colour red the Earth would be really
cold. Now as far as I know, and don't kwote me on this, the sun comes down
to Earth in the light colour of ultraviolent (which travel easily through
the O Zone because the O is scared of it). Then it gets into a fight with
the Earth (aka Gaea) and Gaea whips its ass infrared (which I believe is
pronounced in-FAIRD). The infrared light is wimpy and can't get out past
the O Zone and stays trapped inside of it until it dies of natural causes.
But that's not why we should hate the infrared. That's why we should LOVE
it!
If it wasn't for infrared we'd all be cold... not just the people in
Saskatoon. And people in Saskatoon would be colder. And naked.
But that's not the only reason you should love red. Blood is red,
and if you don't know why you should love blood then you should go to school
or read our special blood issue.
There are other red things you should like too... like... apples...
and balloons and... red paint... and... the red thing inside of a
thermometer... and... ...
So if red isn't your god yet, you should seriously consider it.
.d&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&b.
___________________________________________________
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|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
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|___________________________________________________|
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|___________________________________________________|
.d&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&b.
Copyright 2001 by The Neo-Comintern #154-05/13/01
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
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