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The Neo-Comintern 193
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n e o - c o m i n t e r n . c o m
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s u b v e r s i v e l i t e r a t u r e f o r
s u b v e r t e d p e o p l e
m a r c h 1 0 t h , 2 0 0 2
e d i t o r - b m c
- - - - ----==={ I N S T A L L M E N T 1 9 3 }===---- - - - -
w r i t e r s :
a h m e d b a l f o u n i
m e l a t o n i n
- - - - ----==={ F E A T U R E S }===---- - - - -
these whispers among us many
by Ahmed Balfouni
Allergy Glasses
by Melatonin
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e d i t o r ' s n o t e
- - - - ---==={PLEASE DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING!}===--- - - - -
True Story of this Morning:
Sunday morning is when Neo-Comintern issues are put together. As I woke
up this morning, I was feeling a bit sluggish because I had only slept for
five hours last night. As I proceeded to N-Com HQ, I created a layout and
editor's note in my head. But, as you all know, when composing intricate
webs within the brain, one must be able to stay in a flexible and
heightened state. When pushing one's reasoning to the outstretches, any
little distraction can increase the tension, eventually snapping the
strand of thought.
Ahem. I got here, N-Com HQ, and guess what? I found out that there is a
blackout. It could be hours before I reach a computer. If this message
reaches you, please know that my death was not in vain. It warns about
the blahblahblah of somethingsomethingsomething.
Right?
Right?
Actually, my point was that it broke my train of thought. So there I was,
sitting around and waiting for the power to go on, when I decided to look
at some notes I had written on my portable notetaking device. There I
beheld some amazing words that I had indeed written, but did not remember
writing. It takes me back to a time of approximately two weeks ago.
Please come on this voyage through time with me:
[Two weeks ago:]
I got my wisdom teeth pulled. All of them. When I was given Ibuprofin
and T3 with my antibiotics, I believed that I was supposed to take them
every six hours along with the antibiotics. Apparently you are only
supposed to take them as needed, so I spent the first week high off my ass
on codeine and painkillers. I don't remember anything that happened that
week.
It all started in the office. They gave me this gas that made me laugh
and I didn't even know why I was laughing. Then they gave me a needle and
I closed my eyes and it seemed like the next time I opened them was when I
was in the next room. But I actually got my teeth pulled out, holes
drilled in my jaw, the skin of my gums peeled back like a cap, and all that
stuff. I didn't remember a thing. Apparently, another thing that I
didn't remember was an important note that I wrote to myself on my
portable notetaking device. I only use this device when I get ideas for
stories, so I know this was supposed to be an article, poem, or short
story. Can you tell which?
[Untitled Work, composed in drug-induced blackout]
my mooth ie dry k- it hill seenibalwatt hith bloo
yao in kfor no reasnn2
dryy mouth
lithor is 1 od
goodru combos
While I admit that this work is not my best, it certainly ranks among
those that are the most peculiar. On that note, I think you will agree
with me that the recently discovered work is much better as an editor's
note than as a column. In this issue you will get a chance to read two
pieces, one by Amhed Balfouni, and one by Melatonin. Both of these
writers are bold, poetic, and also quite strange. These guys are real
N-Com superstars, so I'll leave the rest of the issue to them.
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THESE WHISPERS AMONG US MANY
- - - - -- -------===={by Ahmed Balfouni}====------- -- - - - -
the matamore of Bobadil
he were a very pretty fellow
with his bit of Ribband on his sleeve
and his poison pen yellow
bless you Sir 'a was a good man
in a bad time Sir
round about he drove
mad as any March hare Sir
yet who would not be so mad
in quest of a Spanish Main
it were a long time pissing out
the conflagration in Pudding Lane
he waked as out of a bad dream
the signification of which was
Mallarmé or Frost his woodchuck
or his navigator's art
until at last slept out at door
my gallant gentleman no more
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ALLERGY GLASSES
(From the Odd Life of Jonny Strange)
- - - - -- -------======{by Melatonin}=======------- -- - - - -
Like all men, the man began as a boy, and the boy was born into a world
overrun by corporate slogans and capitalist propaganda. At first it
didn't bother him, or, if it did, it did so only slightly. A rash
here, a bit of a cough there. Nothing his parents couldn't dismiss as
the traditional, minor illnesses of a newborn babe. But at five the
symptoms increased -- mumps, measles, the flu every day at school,
swollen glands during Saturday morning cartoons. Finally the boy's
parents took their son to an allergist and after a comprehensive series
of specialized tests, it was soon determined that Jonny Strange, only
child of Bob and Ella Strange, was, in fact, allergic to advertising.
That was twenty years ago, and after a long hard life lived mostly
indoors, in dank basement cellars and cramped, mothy attics, free from
TVs, radios, magazines, labels, and any other object that could
infiltrate Jonny's sloganless world, a change finally came. Bob and
Ella passed from old age within weeks of each other, and poor Jonny,
sheltered, pale, and utterly out of the cultural loop, found himself
confronted first with an endless onslaught of bills, and later the
sleepless vigilance of the repo man.
Our hero was given a scant two weeks to reintigrate into society, which
would seem like a stretch, given this eccentric tale, but Jonny had a
secret up his sleeve. Having spent the bulk of his life lost
and forgotten in the cracks of society, he had developed a key skill:
scavenger invention, culled to perfection out of years of boredom and
isolation. Jonny could build almost anything out of anything, and it
was this that he fell back on now, in his time of utmost crisis. All
that stood between him and freedom was a pair of glasses, pieced
together from boxes of broken electronics and bits of rusted machinery,
that, like a mute button for the world, had the amazing ability of
"blocking out" every piece of advertising society could throw at him.
And so Jonny placed the finishing touches on his priceless invention
and, trembling with fear and anticipation, tried them on for the first
time one chilly autumn night. With clutched chest he quickly stumbled
into his parents' old bedroom and peered deep, deep into his father's
classic Coca-Cola mirror -- an act that under any other circumstance
would have been suicidal. Jonny stared and waited, counting the
seconds and sweating all over. Finally, after a full minute, the first
symptom appeared. A nose bleed, black and warm. Jonny wiped the two
running lines aside and leaned in, challenging the mirror, his mind
reeling with the wonderful, terrible wait. But in the end there were
no more problems, and Jonny, drunk with the joy of newfound freedom,
threw his head back and yelled to the Heavens, "My invention has
worked. Oh thank you, thank you, my invention has worked!"
And the next day, after eight thankless hours on the job, the repo man
stopped into his favourite bar for a cold mug of beer, bearing with him
strange stories of a mysterious man-child who whistled a happy tune as
he lost his home forever.
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The Neo-Comintern Magazine / Online Magazine is seeking submissions.
Unpublished stories and articles of an unusual, experimental, or
anti-capitalist nature are wanted. Contributors are encouraged to
submit works incorporating any or all of the following: Musings, Delvings
into Philosophy, Flights of Fancy, Freefall Selections, and Tales of
General Mirth. The more creative and astray from the norm, the better.
For examples of typical Neo-Comintern writing, see our website at
<http://www.neo-comintern.com>.
Submissions of 25-4000 words are wanted; the average article length is
approximately 200-1000 words. Send submissions via email attachment to
<bmc@neo-comintern.com>, or through ICQ to #29981964.
Contributors will receive copies of the most recent print issue of The
Neo-Comintern; works of any length and type will be considered for
publication in The Neo-Comintern Online Magazine and/or The Neo-Comintern
Magazine.
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___________________________________________________
|THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S |
|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
| TWILIGHT ZONE (905) 432-7667 |
| BRING ON THE NIGHT (306) 373-4218 |
| CLUB PARADISE (306) 978-2542 |
| THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME (306) 373-9778 |
|___________________________________________________|
| Website at: http://www.neo-comintern.com |
| Questions? Comments? Submissions? |
| Email BMC at bmc@neo-comintern.com |
|___________________________________________________|
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c o p y r i g h t 2 0 0 2 b y #193-03/10/02
t h e n e o - c o m i n t e r n
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