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The Purple Thunderbolt of spode Volume 1 Issue 25
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** ** ** ** ** Submarine Pens Proudly Presents:
** ** ** ** The Summer Version of
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Yep looks the same but it ain't
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THE PURPLE THUNDERBOLT OF SPODE VOL 1, 25
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"South Florida's Very Own REPLIES TO: barker@acc.fau.edu
Non Alien Run Electronic Magazine"
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WRITE TO: IGHF/43 Mitchell Grant Way/ Bedford, MA 01730-1264
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INTRO
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Welcome to yet another shoot from the hip issue of Purps. This time around
we seem to be missing a lot in the submissions department. This of course
means that your editor has to shoot from the hip and come up with enough
Otisian material to fill an issue. Well, we'll just have to see how it goes.
First off in the News, according to the Pope, the 1-900 number is closer
to becoming a reality. Dr. Simpson has let it be know, that he is
looking for skilled diggers for his next expedition. At this time he is
unable to disclose exactly where this dig is due to security reasons.
Okay I'm done. Wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. There are a few
things in here that made me laugh even. Odd. Still this time around we
have plenty of Otis for you. Hopefully in the near future we'll have even
more. Even a report or two on the infamous British Yak Corps. that helped
invade Tibet.
Please note that the IGHF address has been changed above.
This time around I didn't seem to get as many submissions as I got last
time, but it still looks like we've got a block busters issue here. Three
stories, count them. Plenty of Otisian wisdom for eveyone even.
Inside you'll find:
Lo-Quality Aliens Invade Earth
A New Goddess for the Otisian Pantheon
Overkill What a Thrill
News of the Weird
People Around the Country See Elvis on A Money Gathering Tour
More News of the Weird
World of Hitlers
Horros Stalk Shopping Malls
Optima Plan Part II
Recipe Time: Exciting Dessert
Stewy's Story
Messenger of the Gods Part IV (I think)
And Still More News of the Weird
New Exciting Medical Procedure, Fun for the Whole Family
And Still More News of the Weird
Cold War Funnies
Scenes from Surrealist Movie Comes True
Movie Review
Voodoo Beer
JFK's Brain Still Alive
And Still More News of The Weird
News From the World of Spode
===========================================================================
LO-QUALITY ALIENS INVADE EARTH
===========================================================================
[The following article leads further proof to the recent reports of just
how sloppy the alien menace on this planet it getting. This time our
intrepid aliens forgot to check to see if what they were multilating were
even living. I'm sure this provoked no end of puzzlement in their
orbiting laboratories.]
Subj: Fwd: Subgenius Digest V2 #201
Subgenius Digest Wed, 17 Jul 91 Volume 2 : Issue 201
Today's Topics:
Cattle mutilation dismissed as "just a college prank"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject: Cattle mutilation dismissed as "just a college prank"
BRAINTREE, Mass. (UPI) -- Managers of the Hilltop Steak House are
baffled as to why anyone would cut the heads off the restaurant's
trademark herd of life-size fake cows but vow to replace them.
Vandals apparently used power saws to decapitate six of seven
fiberglass cows outside the restaurant this weekend and also made off
with a calf, cutting it off at the hoofs, police said. None of the
missing heads or the calf have been recovered, police said.
``Nobody has called up claiming responsibility, no radical
vegetarians,'' assistant manager Marion Burke said Monday. ``We have no
idea why anyone would do it. I think it's just a college prank.''
Another assistant manager, Robert Griffin, had a theory.
``They're great looking,'' he said. ``Somebody's probably mounted
them on the wall. To have a Hilltop cow probably means a lot to them.
This isn't just a piece of junk cow -- these are beautiful.''
Griffin suspects the Hilltop herd's heads were rustled by more than
one person.
``It would take at least a half-hour to cut the head off even one
cow,'' he said.
Burke said the decapitation apparently took place sometime Saturday
night or early Sunday morning. The fiberglass slaughter was discovered
about 4 a.m. Sunday.
Burke said the restaurant intends to replace the damaged bovines at a
cost of about $500 each.
Hilltop officials expressed concern about similar fiberglass herds it
has at its other restaurants in Saugus and Nashua, N.H.
===========================================================================
A NEW GODDESS FOR THE OTISIAN PANTHEON?
===========================================================================
From: bmb@bluemoon.uucp (Bryan Bankhead)
Subject: Demi Moore the new Mother Goddess?
Date: Fri, 19 Jul 91 01:24:02 EDT
Well there she is, in living color on the cover of Vanity fair magazine.
swollen belly, floppy tits, the whole bit, and surprisingly sexy for all
that. Just like a better groomed 'venus'. what is the magical
significance of this meme being propagated? This picture has sent sales
of that mag through the roof, obviously some deep current of archetypal
symbology is being accesses here. And note that successes of this type
tend to propagate like viruses. Soon lots of mags will have their own
'nekkid prego' spread. (can't wait for the on from penthouse!). Please
note more 'mother goddess imagery may be propagated over the next year
than would be possible in centuries way back when...
This is from
bmb@bluemoon.uucp
bmb@bluemoon.rn.com
who doesn't have their own obnoxious signature yet
===========================================================================
OVERKILL WHAT A THRILL
===========================================================================
Date: Sat, 20 Jul 91 12:01:05 CDT
From: STEWY <UC541831@UMCVMB.MISSOURI.EDU>
Coweta, OK (AP) A woman gathered up two children, a pet bird and a puppy
before setting off 18 cans of bug fogger in her mobile home. She stepped
outside an d the fumes exploded.
"She could have got by with two or three," said Coweta fire chief Bill
Osburn. A pilot light likely ignited the fumes, he said. No one was
injured in the explosion last week, which blew out windows, the door and
one wall.
Eighteen cans of insect fogger were found in the rubble, enough to treat
90,000 cubic feet, Osburn said. The mobile home was about 6,000 cubic
feet.
Dorothy Clayton stepped outside when the fumes exploded, said neighbor
Hanice Ramage.
===========================================================================
NEWS OF THE WEIRD
===========================================================================
Date: 20 Jul 91 13:42:00 EDT
From: STEPHANIE R KLEIN <kleinsr@vax001.kenyon.edu>
Subject: NOTW
In the chapter called "Least Competent Criminals":
In 1986 a man fainted while trying to rob the Lafayette Cooperative Bank
in Swansea, MA, with a toy pistol. He had also locked the keys inside his
getaway car.
A convict broke out of jail in Washington, DC, then a few days later
accompanied his girlfriend to her trial for robbery. At lunch, he went out
for sandwiches. She needed to see him & thus had him paged. Police
officers recognized his name over the PA system. As he alighted in front
of the court house in a car he had stolen during lunch hour, he was
arrested.
And "Reasons Not to Dial 911"
When an off-duty Detroit police officer shot himself in the shoulder as he
tried to kill a rat that had jumped onto his arm in his garage, 10 Detroit
police patrol cars responded to the report of a shooting at the man's
house. The rat escaped unharmed.
A city ambulance crew in St. Louis in 1980 stopped to pick up a pizza
while on their way to the hospital with a patient suffering from head
injuries. The ambulance circled the pizza parlor parking lot for 5
minutes until the crew's pizza was ready.
In 1987, a California sheriff faced criticism for his practices of using
chains & handcuffs for female defendants in courtrooms but not using the
restraints for male defendants.
Police in San Diego, CA abandoned their restraint policy after an uproar
over an incident in which a mounted police officer led a black man through
neighborhood streets by a rope attached to the horse's saddle. The man had
been arrested for walking a dog without a leash.
In Avellino, Italy, Carmine Urciuolo was riding unattended in the back of
an ambulance after it picked him up at a traffic accident. He slid out the
unfastened rear door & had to hitchhike to the hospital.
In 1986, a woman was freed from a pair of designer jeans by San Jose, CA
firefighters who worked for 20 minutes using wire cutters & needle-nosed
pliers.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Steph (StephK on IRC) "Walk lightly in your dreams;
kleinsr@vax001.kenyon.edu They might come true for you tomorrow."
-- Kirsty McColl
Stephanie Klein "This country 'tis of them not me,
123 S. Madison And I spit when they tell me I'm free."
LaGrange, IL 60525 -- Pimentos for Gus
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
===========================================================================
PEOPLE AROUND THE COUNTRY SEE ELVIS ON ANOTHER MONEY GATHERING TOUR
===========================================================================
Subject: THE WEAKLY WORLD NEEDS YOUR HELP!
Date: 15 Jul 91 05:54:31 GMT
The WWN (the Greatest Newspaper on the FACE OF THE EARTH) reports:
"NEW WAVE OF ELVIS SIGHTINGS!"
8 People who can prove the King IS alive!
Yes, my friends, The KING is once again, making the rounds! But THIS time
he's giving out FREE Cadillacs, loaning MONEY, and performing CPR!
Here are the FACTS (can you prove it did NOT happen?).
I have taken the liberty of listing them in chronological order, something
the WWN didn't think important enough to do:
May 1st : Mpls Mn: Elvis takes part in Anarchist Parade.
May 3rd : Seattle WA: Elvis at KING County International Airport
May 10th : San Diego Calif: Elvis loans woman $5.
May 26th : Muskegon MI: Elvis eats Ice cream in front of woman.
May 27th : Cleveland OH: Elvis helps high school student with
calculus homework. Student fails test.
May 28th : Waco TX: Elvis makes phone call at payphone.
June 1st : Corpus Christi, Tex: Free Cadillac given to woman.
June 17th: Richmond VA: Elvis in Wal-Mart store. Buy's Gel for hair.
June 23rd: Nashville, TN: Woman spots Elvis near Ryman Auditorium.
June 10th: St. Petersburg FLA: Elvis performs CPR.
July 4th : Bensonville IL: Elvis helps set off fireworks for town
display
July 6th : Passadena CA: Jet Propulsion Lab reveals photos of the
Gobi desert contain the face of Elvis.
July 12th: Miamia FL: Elvis escapes from Coast Guard Patrol in
souped up cigarette boat
July 15th: Pittsburgh, PA: Elvis feeds Alkaseltzer to Seagull. Bird
explodes and dies horrible death.
NOW, fellow readers of A.F.U the Weakly World is asking for YOUR help!
They write: "What about YOU? Weekly World News wants to find Elvis Presley
and reveal his amazing story -- once and for all! If you've seen The King,
WRITE AND TELL US WHERE AND WHEN. Better yet, if you capture him on film,
send your photo to THE NEWS. Millions of Fans are waiting. Write to:
I'VE SEEN THE KING
Weekly World News
600 S. East Coast Ave
Lantanna, Fla 33462"
So, how about, readers of A.F.U? Have you seen THE KING in a K-Mart in
New Zealand or at a bar in Australia? We MUST have somebody out there that
has a picture of him? (How about YOU Kibo?)
I'm sure we can help out the WWN. After all, look what we've done for
Craig Shergold. I'm sure we can do the same for the WWN!
What say you, gentle readers of AFU?
Terry "There he goes now!" Wood
===========================================================================
MORE NEWS OF THE WEIRD
===========================================================================
Date: 15 Jul 91 21:09:00 EDT
From: STEPHANIE R KLEIN <kleinsr@vax001.kenyon.edu>
Subject: NOTW
From the chapter "Handicapable":
Virginia state trooper R.L. Farney pulled over a weaving car early one
morning and found that its driver wasn't just drunk but also blind. Farney
reported that the man explained he was driving because his woman companion
"was drunker than he was." The driver added that she had been directing
him. "He thought he was driving OK," said Farney, who disagreed & ticketed
both of them.
From "Litigous Society"
When a Rockville, MD woman sued her employer for $500,000 for injuries
from falling off a chair at work, the company produced a witness who
testified the woman had been practicing falling off chairs at work "for
years."
The Episcopal bishop of Central Florida sued the U.S. government for
$200,000. He claimed that a knee injury he suffered on the Naval Training
Center's tennis courts prevented him from genuflecting. The gov't
countersued, claiming that the bishop trespassed by playing his matches
early in the morning to avoid detection.
And from "Gunplay"
Police in Charleston, SC arrested a man who handed a note demanding money
to the automatic teller machine at a bank. A police officer who witnessed
the incident said that when the machine didn't respond to the demand, the
man pumped two shots into it and drove off.
And from the chapter called "Oops":
The Georgia State Game Commission spent a considerable amount of time
debating the regulation of alligator rides before someone noticed the
typographical error and realized the commission was supposed to be
debating whether to regulate alligator hides.
An Oklahoma City jury needed just 20 minutes to decide that a few words
from the unwise were sufficient to convict the defendant of armed robbery,
despite his claim of an alibi. His court-appointed attorney was
questioning the victim, who identified the defendant as the robber. The
defendant jumped to his feet and accused the witness of lying. "I should
have blown your... head off," he said, quickly adding, "If I'd been the
one that was there."
After last-minute campaigning to retain his seat on the Massachusetts
Governor's council, Herbert Connolly raced to the polling place but
arrived 15 minutes too late to cast his ballot in the 1988 Democratic
primary. The final tally was 14,715 for Connolly and 14,716 for his
opponent.
===========================================================================
WORLD OF HITLERS
===========================================================================
Date: Mon, 15 Jul 91 21:09:39 MDT
From: eiverson@NMSU.Edu
Subject: WORLD BOOK OF HITLERS
Evelyn G. Hitler, Director
Dear Members of the Hitler Family,
I have exciting news for you and fellow Hitlers! As you may already know,
extensive work has been done throughout the world on a project relating to
our Hitler family name. Now our new book, "THE WORLD BOOK OF HITLERS" is
about to be published and it includes individual Hitlers who immigrated to
the New World between 1945 and the present.
The first Hitler we found came to Paraguay in 1945. His name was Adolph.
Like thousands of others, he sought a better life for himself in this land
where international extradition is virtually unknown.
Adolph, or any of the other Hitlers who are documented in this new book,
may be the sole reason you and I live here today. Not many Eastern
European families can say that! This hard-to-find Hitler immigration
information was obtained from reference books indexing ships' passenger
lists, arian genetic registries and other official records siezed by
allied forces. In addition to information about Adolph and these other
early Hitler settlers, you'll be provided with an international directory
of virtually every Hitler household (with address). You are listed in this
section of the book.
This has been an enormous project! There are now over 5,438 households
bearing the Hitler name in Paraguay, Brazil, Argentina, South Africa,
Germany and Austria. Using a sophisticated computer network, more than 220
million records were searched worldwide to provide you with this
never-before-published Hitler International Registry. It has been our goal
to locate as many Hitlers as possible.
This unique publication also covers how family names originated and what
the distinguished Hitler name means, as well as an artist's drawing of an
early Hitler Coat of Arms that resembles the swastika we've come to hold
so dear. You'll even find exciting details about how you can take a
family heritage tour back to the Hitler fatherland and learn even more
about your family's origin.
To my knowledge, this remarkable collection of valuable information is
available ONLY in "THE WORLD BOOK OF HITLERS." Please note, however, that
this First Edition is expected to be the only printing of the Hitler book,
ever. I am writing to all the Hitler families listed in the Hitler
International Registry at this time in order to keep publication costs
low, and in order to keep this information from falling into the hands of
those who would persecute us for our ancestor's war crimes. But you must
order now!
To reserve your copy(s), you must order right away. The number of copies
printed will be determined by the number of print orders we receive by
July 31, 1991.
Sincerely,
Evelyn G. Hitler
P.S. Even though your copy is printed for you alone and I believe you'll
be pleased with it, if you are dissatisfied for any reason, we guarantee a
full and prompt refund. Please see your HITLER APPROVAL ORDER FORM for
details.
===========================================================================
HORRORS STALK THE SHOPPING MALLS
===========================================================================
From: ldoering@caen.engin.umich.edu (Laurence Doering)
Subject: Fear of shopping malls (was West Virginia)
Date: 17 Jul 91 01:40:58 GMT
>
>We also had a great scare right after the area's first mall opened. Suddenly
>there was a great rumor that White Slavers were operating in the area, where
>they would suddenly descend upon unsuspecting women, chloroform them, and carry
>them away somewhere to become love slaves. Had a lot of the guys in the area
>really paranoid for awhile (and personally I think it was started by the local
>town-based retail people as a way to draw shoppers away from the mall, which
>was hurting the business of the downtown types). Anyone else hear this one?
Yes! I heard Pat Robertson (the TV evangelist) tell this story once on
his TV show "The 700 Club". According to him, there is documented
evidence that New York pimps kidnap teenage girls from shopping malls in
Minnesota. He claimed the pimps travel out there with several prostitutes
and quantities of drugs, and the prostitutes wait for teenagers in the
women's bathrooms. Then, before the innocent Minnesotans realize what is
happening, they are INJECTED with HEROIN, and are on their way to Times
Square. The girls can't escape, of course, since they are HOOKED ON DRUGS
almost immediately.
Pat Robertson also claimed for a while (back in 1985, before he had to act
normal for his Presidential campaign) that he had personally deflected
Hurricane Gloria from its original path through the power of prayer. (The
hurricane was predicted to come ashore in southern Virginia at one point,
threatening Pat's home town). Gloria raced up the Atlantic coast and
finally came ashore in -- you guessed it -- New York.
Must be true, Mavis, I heard that preacher say it on the teevee.
Larry "Pat Robertson in '88" Doering
===========================================================================
OPTIMA PLAN PART II
===========================================================================
Date: Wed, 17 Jul 91 12:19:11 CDT
From: Reverend John <UC521832@UMCVMB.missouri.edu>
Subject: foo fah rah
here's part two. If you run short on stuff I can send part three along
as well to run as one big chunk.
rev
Optima Plan, part two
by Rev. John
uc521832@umcvmb.missouri.edu
The room was starkly lit by flourescents behind recessed panels,
defining areas of light and dark along the floor. The ceiling lights
were off, allowing the holographic projection over the broad black
conference table to be seen clearly. It consisted of a man's face,
jowly with multiple chins and some sort of skin disease. Sitting
around the table were a number of people in dark suits, power colors,
wearing loafers and dark socks. They looked up at the hologram, slowly
rotating in the air before them. It spoke.
'Barker lives.' The voice actually issued from speakers under the
table, but there was no mistaking who was doing the talking. A nervous-
looking man shuffled some papers.
'He should be dead by now,' said the image. The man looked up.
'Well we tried sir. But they've found the bear.'
'What?' barked the image, sounding a bit like an angry Darth Vader.
'We didn't know for sure before sir but the spectrometer readings in
Selma were all out of whack. It's the only explanation.'
'If they have indeed found Humpy the Stumpy Bear,' began the image
in menacingly measured tones. 'then we might as well kiss our ass
goodbye. The Divine Children will finally be born and it'll be all over
with for us.'
'I know sir I'm just awfully sorry. I mean I can't sleep I can't eat I
wake up in the morning and there's white scum on my tongue I just feel
terrible.'
The hard face softened for a moment. 'I know I hate that stuff on my
tongue.'
'Um, sir?' another man joined the conversation.
'Yes what is it Bilbous?'
'Well there is a chance. The two nominal figureheads, Rev and Stewy,
have no guards whatsoever that we have seen. We know Barker has the
bear, so an attack on them has a good chance of succeeding. It won't
finish the OTISians by any means but it will slow them down.'
The face pondered this for a moment. 'Well by jiminy Bilbous you just
may have something there.'
Bilbous smiled and shuffled some papers.
SamHill glanced at the house in the rear-view mirror as he pulled away
and started on his 'vacation.' He was glad to get away from the damn
place.. living there was really getting on his nerves. He reminded
himself that he still had to mail the Rev's tapes, which contained a
number of valuble computer programs contained on a separate track from
the music and sound that they supposedly contained.
These programs contained all the data he had dug up so far on the
significance of Humpy the Stumpy Bear and the Divine Children currently
being brought to term by Humpy and Security Advisor Shark. It was vital
that this info got to the OTISians, and quick. His alleged vacation was
in fact more a case of taking it on the lam - the museum he worked at
had been broken into two days ago and his desk rifled. They were
getting close.
Behind him, his house exploded in a sudden violent fury, casting flames
and debris across the street.
Close indeed, thought SamHill as he turned left and headed off into the
night.
Commodore Presley was holding another of his infamous jam sessions, in
the room on his command ship decorated to look like a nightclub. His
voice had lost none of its velvety edge and he moved like a young man.
The reversal therapy had worked wonders and the Commodore could easily
pass for 25 now.
Several off-duty crew members hung around the little tables with candles
on them, ordering pepsis and moon pies. At one of these sat the OTISian
candidate for First Lady, Mal Barker, looking somewhat impatient but
amused.
'He really is Mister Entertainment,' thought Barker. Suddenly the candle
flame on his table began to expand and diffuse, growing to about the
size of a balloon. Barker glanced around but no one else was noticing the
effect. After a moment the vision crystallized into that of Pope Jeffrei
religious mendicant of the OTISians.
'Mal' came a soft voice like a wisp of smoke. 'Mal..'
Barker glanced around again and hoped no one noticed him talking to the
candle. 'Pope? What's up?'
'Must.. warn you..' The Pope's image faded and then brightened, like an
internet link going down and coming back. 'What's wrong?' Mal hissed.
'Rev.. Stewy.. danger..' The apparition was losing focus, seeming to
melt in places. 'What?' Mal responded, garnering the attention of a few
of the crew who wondered why this guy was talking to his candle.
'Danger..' said Jeffray again and then the image was gone.
The look of anxiety on Mal's face curiously passed. Despite the way he
had responded to the Pope, he knew all was well in hand.
As he had dozens of times, the Rev performed the amazing trick of both
turning the key and the knob below with one hand. His other held a
drink cooler containing ice water. He pushed the door open with his foot
and slipped into the house. Glancing at the bar for mail and finding
none, his attention was then drawn to the bodies of his four housemates,
staked to the wall in a great bloody mess.
'Oh not again,' muttered the Rev.
Suddenly the front windows of the house splintered apart as a barrage of
automatic weapons fire sprayed across the room. Rev hit the floor and
listened to the roar of firearms that continued for the better part of
a minute. While listening he crawled around the corner to the big
table that looked like a coffin. Still lying prone, he opened the lid
and pulled something out from inside.He put the LAW to his shoulder.
The firing ceased. Outside, three men stood in the open cargo door of a
sinister black van, surveying the damage. One held an infrared scanner
up to his face and looked for survivors.
A warm figure suddenly stood up, and then the entire field went red with
heat.
Less than two blocks away, vice-presidential candidate 'Stewy' Stewart
was on a bug hunt. In each hand was a Converse All-Star Athletic Shoe,
pressed into service as spider-squashers. She moved stealthily about the
dim room, looking for one of the eight-legged little bastards.
Suddenly two men swung in through the windows on cables, automatic weapon
firing as they came through. In an amazing display of Super Occult
Genius skill, Stewart deflected every bullet with the Chucks, looking for
all the world like some strange Wonder Woman bouncing bullets off. The
Chucks flew in a multicolored frenzy, but the men kept firing desperately
even as the bullets caroomed off elsewhere in the room. Stewart closed on
them and within a moment clonked them both on the head. They fell like
sacks of wet cement.
'MotherFUCK there goes the security deposit,' she said. Just then there
was a buzzing from the intercom.
'WHAT?'
'Stew it's Rev. They're moving on us.'
'No shit Tynes. I got two up here.'
'Damn. Be right up.'
In a moment Rev arrived, holding a crumpled brown package. He surveyed
the damage. 'Good thing you don't have roommates.'
'My Mac!' Stewart cried, finally noticing the bullet-ridden shell of a
computer on the desk. 'Oh SHIT somebody's gotta pay for this.'
'Don't worry,' said Rev, holding the package open to reveal the cassette
tapes from SamHill inside. 'They will.'
Miles to the north, OTISian Security Advisor Shark was growing impatient
The bus with Steph on it was already five minutes late. Steph was
bringing a special instalment of News Of The Weird, containing vital
information for the campaign. Shark told herself she shouldn't worry.
Steph was wearing Chucks after all. But things had gone wrong before.
Mal sipped his butterscotch schnapps and looked into the candle flame.
Though few knew it yet, everything was going according to plan.
to be continued
===========================================================================
RECIPE TIME: EXCITING DESSERTS
===========================================================================
From: aragon@acm.rpi.edu (Greg Pratt)
Date: 12 Jul 91 16:22:36 GMT
Subject: MISC: Penn & Teller Dessert
Here is the outline for something I saw this morning on Geraldo (by
accident) that was done by Penn & Teller. It's more of a macabre show-off
desert, but I laughed my ass off when I saw it.
Okay, start off by making some Jell-O, preferably strawberry or cherry or
some other flavor that's naturally red. But, use two to three times as
much Jell-O mix as you normally would, to thicken up the consistency.
After this is mixed, stir in some cool whip, and pour it into your
favorite standard party mold (the dome kind would be good).
Get a CLEAN plastic bag (inside and out) and place in it some Karo syrup.
Now add something like a very dar red wine, or grape juice. What you want
is a semi-thick VERY dark red (opaque) liquid which looks not unlike
blood. Starting to get the picture yet?
Okay, now place this bag in the mold, so that the bag is still floating on
top. Keep in mind that you want the Jell-O plus the bag to completely
fill the mold, but have a level surface, as this thing is going to flip
over later on. Put it in the fridge, and allow it to chill and set.
When you take it out of the refrigerator, you should decorate it a little.
Try drizeling some chocolate glaze on top and popping a couple of
strawberries cherries on top of this. Allow to set if necessary, and then
bring it out to your dinner guests.
At this point, your dinner guests will probably be oo'ing and ah'ing over
this rather nice dessert you've brought out to them. Make sure you've got
that big pointy butcher knife in one hand as you set this beauty down on
the table.
Now you get to play Norman Bates: cut into the side of this, making sure
you go deep enough to cut into the bag real wide. As you continue to cut
out a piece of the gelatin mold, the bag will leak into this, and your
bewildered guests will think your dessert is _BLEEDING_. Not to
disappoint them, cut out one of these bloody pieces of gelatin and plop it
down on a plate. If you're lucky, it will look like a recently-extracted
body organ.
Yes, this is gross. Yes, I wouldn't bring this to the typical dinner
party. Yes, I probably have a *very* warped sense of humor. But, I
laughed quite loudly when I saw this being done by Penn & Teller. At the
very least, it might be fun for a Halloween party... :-)
Cheers...
Gregory L. Pratt aragon@acm.rpi.edu
===========================================================================
STEWY'S STORY
===========================================================================
STALE CIGARETTES AND DIVINE REVELATIONS
Last night I lay awake in bed, staring out my apartment's only window at
the one source providing light. I guess I was hoping to find some sort of
answer from a source higher above or some deep, hidden revelation. Nothing
happened.
I searched for a pack of smokes, but wound up smoking a stale butt that
had been sitting in some astray I had forgotten I had. Stale smoke drifted
through my apartment and I could see the smoke by the grace of the moon's
light.
In an effort to de-smokify my claustrophobic apartment, I pushed the
window open and popped out the screen window. I popped my head outside and
stared down the four flights and wondered if the human body, plummeting
four flights to the cement below, would have the same impact if, say, I
were standing eight flights up. As I sucked in a plethora of bugs through
my nostrils, I held my breath and attempted to blow them out only to feel
one of them escape and drift to my throat.
"Jesus mother fucking Christ on a goddamn crutch!!" I shouted as I choked
myself into a hectic frenzy. As I was staring at the wall I noticed a very
vile-looking, HUGE cockroach ascending the wall and attempting to find its
way into my apartment. I, being the bug-hater of all time, ran into the
bathroom and grabbed an environmentally unsafe bottle of aerosol hairspray
and my Zippo lighter. There was a huge blast of flames.
"Die mother fucker, DIEEEEE!!!!" I shouted into the night. I saw the roach
burn, could taste it's burning flesh, shell, skin (or whatever the hell it
was made of) as it began its descent downwards. For a moment, I almost
thought I heard it hit the ground, but wasn't sure.
I felt better...much better. And in the deepest bowels of my inner mind,
I could hear it screaming, shrieking in pain, scolding me in the most
abusive and salacious bug language possible. Somehow I could hear it
saying, "FIRE, WALK WITH ME!"
My escapade with the bug ruined my idea of sitting on the windowsill and
dangling my feet like an innocent youth on a bench that was too tall for
them to place their feet on the ground. I closed the window, lit another
smoke and contemplated hanging myself with raw spaghetti, slitting my
wrist with a toothpick or digging my eyes out with a plastic spoon.
Grabbing a huge laundry bag, I tossed in all 18 pairs of Chucks, my Bible,
a new pack of smokes and a six pack of ice- cold Coke. I found my way to
the roof of the building, threw everything on the ground and stared at the
moon. There was no smiling, happy, joyful, cheery smile in the moon that
night...just a sinister darkness.
So there I was, walking along the ledge of the apartment building, holding
a cigarette in one hand, a can of Coke in the other and one of my Chucks
was untied, the black shoelace dangling over the ledge. The ledge was
about one-foot wide and somehow the can of Coke seemed heavier than the
cigarette and I wondered if, perhaps, I should have taken that course in
physics instead of Basket-Weaving 101.
"Two steps, one step, onward I go/balancing on the edge of insanity/Two
steps, one step, break a big toe/tell me if I'll live to see/Two steps,
one step, feel the wind blow/what is it that I've come to be?" I made it
up as I went along, attempting to balance myself, yet not caring if I
couldn't.
I jumped off the ledge, back onto the apartment building, grabbed the
laundry bag and emptied my Chucks out onto the ground.
"Super Occult Genius, that's what I am."
Placing each Chuck into the correct position, I created a star...what I
refer to as a pentagram. In the middle of the star I placed the Bible,
walked over to the ledge and dangled my feet over the side, waiting for
the Holy War to begin.
"Hmm, this kinda makes you wonder...I mean like, all those spiders that
have made their happy home in my pad could be like waiting until I fall
asleep and then crawl to my mouth and dangle those little, wirey feet of
theirs into my mouth as a sort of foreplay before they take the big
plunge."
I looked around...just who the hell was I talking to?
The moon's light was creating an almost heavenly beam of light upon my
colorful creation and I stared for several minutes. Nothing happened, so
I walked toward it in hopes that uttering some type of foreign language
might do the trick.
I circled the formation, trying in vein to think of some ancient, mystical
gibberish, but none came to mind. As I looked toward the moon, I heard a
rustling sound in the distance. Three figures, clad in black attire,
who's faces I could not see, began walking towards me.
"Who the hell are you and why are you on MY goddamn roof?
What's the password?"
The creatures stopped and stood in line for a few seconds before one of
them moved forward. It clicked his heels, touched its left arm to its
right ear and its right arm to its left knee.
"HAIL OTIS," it said, standing in that awkward position. Another click of
the heels and the second of the three creatures moved forward, recreating
the same motions that the first creature had made.
"HAIL LOTUS," it said, standing just as the first one stood. Then there
was a sort of thumping sound, a weak click of the heels and the third
creature scooted forward on its rear.
"HAIL SPODE," it said, sitting on the ground, attempting to pose itself as
the two others were. There was a loud smacking sound and a slight whimper.
"What the hell was that SPODE?," the other two creatures said with a quick
smack to SPODE's head, "I mean, haven't we practiced this enough yet. Do
we need to send you back to the freakin' military academy or what?
What appeared to be the first creature, who had shouted, "HAIL OTIS,"
stepped toward me, glancing at what I had built upon the ground.
"Like I said pal, who the hell are you? What the fuck are you doing on MY
goddamn roof? And just what the heck is the damn password?" I asked,
wondering if I had somehow, accidentally, added some rum to my Coke.
"The password is, uh, PURPS...THE PURPLE THUNDERBOLT OF SPODE!"
"WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. You fucking lose pal, no nice doorprizes for you,
but thanks for playing Stewy's Game of Life." I looked in its direction
and watched its two partners fade into the darkness the same way in which
they had come.
"Ok, like WHO are you and what do you want with ME?"
It circled my star of Chucks, with its hands behind its back, stopped
directly across from me so that I could almost see its face, but the
baseball cap hid most of its features. It took the cap off and had what
appeared to be closely cut hair, cleanly shaven face (if you could call it
a face...more like dry, peeling skin, but in it's own special way, it was
kinda cute) and no eyebrows. It wasn't standing directly in the moon's
light beam, so I couldn't make out all of its features but I wasn't
exactly curious to know what it truly looked like.
"My name is OTIS. I am the ancient sumerian god/goddess, leader of the
Purple Thunderbolt of Spode," he explained to me in an odd language with
more hand gestures than were necessary.
"Right, and I'm a fucking space alien from Mars. Oh, better yet, I guess
if you're this Purple Thunderbolt of Sp...fucking whatever person, then
I'm the fucking POPE!" I told him, adding erratic hand gestures just so
that he wouldn't feel out of place.
"You cannot be the Pope. The Pope is my most fondest disciple. He carries
with him my word and preaches what I ask of him to preach. You are Stewy
and I have been told by several people that you are in need of help to
overcome your apparent aberrations."
"I've got to be slightly insane because I'm sitting here talking to some
schmoozer who looks like a blond bimbo who forgot to wake up after
spending the entire day sleeping on the beach. Wait one freakin' minute
here...I know who you are. You're OTIS, like the OTIS that everyone keeps
telling me about. Christ, you are for real! HOLY BUCKETS! I've got to tell
everyone that you ARE for real...not just something we made up."
"Now wait a minute here, Stew. I am real, yes, that is apparent. I am not
the God that the Bible speaks of, nor am I the Beelzebub that the Bible
speaks of. I am OTIS, created by those of you who could not accept the
other choices. I am only what you create me to be, therefore I exist."
He eyed my star of Chucks again and I was damn near shocked. I mean, like
OTIS for criminy sakes, he really DOES exist; but wait one goddang minute
here...
"I have been asked by several of my followers to come speak with you," he
said waiving his hands again.
"Oh like who? Mal? Come on pal, the guy is sitting on some huge commode in
the middle of Hell wishing he were on some submarine with Elvis as his
co-captain and drinking oodles of Slim Fast. Oh, but wait, maybe it was
the Rev, eh?"
It said nothing. "Yeah, well, the last I heard of Rev was that he was
telling Shark to do the horizontal lambada with you, running about town
pretending to be like some important political figure and he was probably
fondling that damn green hand he wears around his wormy little neck," I
said waving my hands in something of a seizure-like attack so as to show
my politeness.
Again, it said nothing. "Ok pal, who the hell was it? Like Shark? Let's
get real, the chick is flipping out and thinks I'm some psychedelic bird
who came to her on some ship with some weird message. And she's pregnant,
by the way and would you like to know what she's naming the kid?"
Once again, it offered no answer. "Ya know, you're like starting to piss
me off. If we created you, I can uncreate you."
"No. It was neither of them," it spoke at last.
I stared into the portion on his face that I assumed were his eyes. I
couldn't see anything but darkness, but that was alright with me. "Oh,
well if it wasn't any of those pinheads, just who the hell told you I
was/am walking the fine line between insanity and reality?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Oh, and I 'spose I just like woke up one night, stole some farmer's
satellite dish, hooked it up to my ears, plugged it in my ass hole and
sent out farting noises that you translated to be 'help me' messages,
right?"
"Similar, but not quite that difficult. I haven't the time to explain how
I came to help you, but I am here and I shall help." It extended a paw, or
perhaps it was a hand, though I am not quite sure and wasn't really
interested in knowing where that thing had been, but I found our hands
clasped together and we walked to the ledge of the building and walked
around the complex once. I, of course, was standing on the very narrow
ledge, whereas he was just kind of like there, walking beside me.
"Well shit, this isn't gonna be like _It's A Wonderful Life_ with Jimmy
Stewart or anything, is it?
No answer.
The sun was beginning to rise when we returned. I'm not quite sure of how
to explain what I had seen, nor do I quite know if any of those burning
questions that I have had since my youth were answered, but I can say that
it was magical. Almost...well, I can't really explain it. It showed me
things, many things; things that will soon come, things that will never
come, things that have already come. It was a divine revelation to say the
last and as time continues on, I have been ordered to share these
revelations with the world as I see fit.
SPODE and LOTUS were dancing in one of the corners atop the building and I
still couldn't see their faces, but SPODE was wearing day-glo pink Chucks
and LOTUS was wearing day-glo green Chucks. They were happy, that's for
sure. Even with daylight beginning to break, I still couldn't see OTIS's
face. It was still encased in a somber darkness. It began walking toward
its companions and turned to me before they disappeared.
"Stewy, two more things before I go. First, that star you built, well, if
it's 'spose to be a pentagram, it's not."
Before he could get to the second thing of which he spoke, I froze. "Just
what the hell do you mean it's not a pentagram. I was hoping for some
kinda Holy War up here and you're telling me it's not a Satanic symbol?"
"No, its the Star of David. You created no Holy/Evil War; just a war of
different religions and that has always existed. The second thing Stewy,"
it began.
"Yes, OTIS sir (I think it was safe to call it a sir)?"
"Humpy the Stumpy bear is a wanna-be kazoo, but it is a special being and
that is why I have sent him to you and the Rev. Humpy will aid you all,
and she will be most especially helpful with the upcoming elections and
that is most important. "
With that, it and its two companions clicked the heels of their Chucks and
were gone just as they came...fading into the sky.
[In case you hadn't figured out who wrote this Stewy did.]
===========================================================================
MESSENGER OF THE GODS PART IV (I THINK)
===========================================================================
[As our readers my recall from last time, our hero after receiving a
letter to deliver from the Mistress of Mayhem for Otis had set out to
perform his task. After many a spine tingling adventures involving the Fropheads,
he finally figured out where to deliver the letter to so Otis could get
it. Just then, he was once again attacked by the Fropheads and in the nick
of time was whisked to safety in the company of a Man in Black through a
cloud of tornado green fog that defied all laws of time and space, only to
find himself aboard an old supposedly "disappeared" nuclear submarine that
doesn't seem too sea worthy, in the company of Elvis, the Man in Black,
Dr. Mabuto the Voodoo Scientist, and a horde of Fishmen and zombies.
Heading north to their destination and after examining the letter and a
few other cryptic things (yeah folks go back and read the previous
parts for clues.) they discovered that a flying saucer was following them.
And so they decided to do something about it, using the Artifact Elvis had
been given by the mysterious "Space Friends" ]
They kept the artifact itself back in the mess deck. Most of the tables
and shelves had been removed to make it fit. It was a huge hunk of metal
and what possibly could have been plastic. It gave off a vague humming
aura and stank of ozone, looking like any falling apart.
To one side were a row of old car batteries wired together with
bright orange and red jumper cables.
"Why don't you hook it up to the reactor?" I asked Elvis, he and the Man
in Black were there. Mabuto stayed in the control room. He would be ready
for any order we gave him. We really did not have a plan of attack but we
figured we'd have to move the submarine around a little.
"Well," began Elvis scratching his head. He pulled a rag out of a pocket
on his jumpsuit and nervously wiped his hands. "The space friends who gave
me this dohicky said it doesn't need much power. They said it might be a
good idea not to have it hooked up to that cantankerous reactor in case it
failed."
"Oh that's nice." I commented.
"And they did not bother to tell you how to operate it did they?" asked
the Man in Black. He seemed to be taking a very deep interest in the
artifact. He slowly walked around the device peering here and there. The
black clad seemed to want to touch it but kept straining himself.
Elvis gave a nervous chuckle. "Nope. I reckon they don't know much about
it themselves. I guess we were pretty lucky to get it working back there
at the beach."
"And we're supposed to use this to take out that saucer following us? Oh
boy this ought to be good," I said. I think I managed to find the control
panel. There was a bank of switches and dials with several small screens
that looked like radar screens. Next to and below this was a large
assortment of levers you might find on a tractor or bulldozer. Nothing
was labeled. No writing. No directions. Nothing. Then again you didn't
have labels on a piano and people still managed to make noise out of it.
"Doggone it! I managed to make it work one time I can do it again," said
Elvis stepping up beside me. He stuffed his rag back in his pocket then
spat on his hands, like he was going to step up to the plate.
"Stand back give me some room," he said. I stepped back. I glanced over at
the Man in Black who was staring at Elvis intently.
Elvis sucked in his breath then hesitantly pushed a couple buttons. Then
he grabbed the biggest lever and pulled. The humming increased and all the
little radar screen lit up. Electronic noise filled the room. A purple
glow came from the machine as electronic discharges crackled about it's
internal works. Elvis let out the breath he was holding looking slightly
relieved. He gave me a silly grin.
"Okay what should I do with that damn saucer?" he asked.
"We need to capture the crew somehow. Could this thing snatch them here?"
I asked
"Oooh like on Star Trek? Beam 'em down?" asked Elvis.
"Something like that," I said.
"Perhaps we should try to something simpler," suggested the Man in Black.
He'd been edging closer slowly to get a better look at how Elvis operated
the artifact.
"Hell what's simpler than just beaming them down here?" Clearly Elvis was
intrigued by the idea.
"Do you know the process to accomplish that feat?" asked the Man in Black.
"Well no..but still," replied Elvis sounding like a little kid.
"Then perhaps you could operate the device in a manner similar to how you
operated earlier. We could simply walk up to the saucer and take them
prisoner," suggested the Man in Black. Elvis and I looked at him
skeptically.
"Um isn't the saucer kinda moving? You want us to run up beside it or
something? It's in the middle of the air anyways," I said.
"The artifact makes time, space and dimensions all relative. The saucer no
matter how fast will appear to be motionless to us. While the air will
seem a solid surface. How did we walk from your dwelling on the beach to
the deck of this very submarine if it was not through the air?"
He had a point. So we decided to give it a shot. I grabbed my machine
pistols and a couple of other little goodies while Mabuto put the
submarine on a very stable straight course. We did not need any
unnecessary jiggling with what we were about to do.
Elvis meanwhile madly scratched his head and tried to recall what he did
last time. After five minutes of these antics of his we just told him to
proceed and wing it.
I stood next to the Man in Black in a small chalk circle Elvis had drawn
on the floor. We couldn't very well go up on deck and leave from there
seeing as the we were still underwater. Mabuto had left his post at the
control room for a few moments to witness our attempt. He seemed highly
suspicious of the artifact and kept making mystical gestures at it,
shaking his rattle.
"Don't you go putting no hoodoo on this contraption, ya hear," warned
Elvis, who was clearly under a lot of stress.
Elvis pulled some levers and pressed some buttons seemingly at random. He
squinted at the little radar screen and cocked his ear to listen to the
noise of the artifact. Gysers of tornado green fog boiled out the machine
filling up the mess deck. I was blind. I wish I'd brought my might vision
goggles.
"Okie dokie!" yelled Elvis. His voice sounded very muffled and distant.
Mabuto yelled something as well but I couldn't catch it.
The Man in Black took my by the elbow and we began to walk. He seemed to
know where he was going once again. From his comments and the way he
acted, clearly he knew something about the artifact he was not saying, or
at least he know something about this tornado green fog business.
We walked for a couple minutes when the fog began to clear up slightly.
It thinned out and there before us was the Mayan saucer glowing a violent
green just like the fog. It was shaped like a very boxy airplane decorated
all over like a Mayan temple. In the boxy cockpit I could see three
figures. Two of them I recognized as the two fat fropheads who'd tried to
invade my place. The other was a woman dressed in a voluminous black
leather trench coat. She was yelling at the other too and seemed very
irritated. On her lab was a huge telephone book like tome made out of
golden plates. The didn't seem to notice us.
We boldly stalked up to the saucer. I banged loudly on the cockpit glass
with the butt of my machine pistol. The three inside jumped. I motioned
them to open the cockpit with my pistol. The woman stuck her tongue out at
me. One of the fropheads crouched down in his seat like a frightened
toad. The other just sat there stunned.
I made as if to fire.
"It's bulletproof," stated the Man in Black beside me. Meanwhile, the
woman began to punch buttons and move the control stick in an effort to
fly the saucer away from us. The saucer remained stock still caught in
the tornado green fog.
The Man in Black produced a small silvery screw driver which he deftly
popped off a panel next to the cockpit. It exposed a handle. He he pulled
out. There was a muffled explosion and the glass of the cockpit blew off
disappearing into the fog overhead. The Man in Black muttered something
about having to deal with that later. I assumed he mean the cockpit cover.
The three in the cockpit sat very still. I pointed my pistols at them and
ordered them out.
Slowly the three scrambled out. The Man in Black produced a skullcap of
sorts. It's surface was covered by electronic components. It looked very
crude and poorly put together.
"What's going on?" asked one of the fropheads. His voice shaking almost as
much as his knees. The other slowly peered around into the fog. The
woman's eyes bulged when she saw the skullcap.
"Now you're gonna learn what happens when you go messing with us," I said.
I figured we'd take them back to the submarine but the Man in black seemed
to have other plans. He was approaching the woman. He was going to put the
skullcap on her.
"Put it on him!" she yelled pointing at the frophead who spoke. "I'm only
the pilot. I know nothing of this." Her voice has a faint german accent
mixed with something else. I noticed she had blonde hair and blue eyes.
She was quite frightened by by the skullcap device.
The Man in Black considered the woman's words for a moment, then moved
over to the absolutely motionless frophead. With a few deft moment he
place the cap firmly on the man's head then activated it. Little lights
flashed.
The man's face when totally slack and he began to drool. The other
frophead moaned. "Shut up!" I said. I had my suspicious about what the
skullcap would do. I doubted the frophead would survived whatever it was
doing to him. The woman in the trench coat stared at the Man in Black
fascinated like a bird is to a snake.
"Speak," ordered the Man in Black to the drooling frophead. As if a damn
had burst the man spoke rapidly, his words slurred. He talked of his
childhood and his days in high school, his favorite Star Trek episode, and
then he stared talking about "Bob". I quickly holstered one of my pistols
and turned on a tape recorder. I wanted to get all this down.
"Well see.."Bob"..yeah "Bob" appeared to me see..well and then Captain
Kirk.. no it was "Bob"..he was on T.V. instead od Captain Kirk...no it was
Captain Kirk...no it was "Bob".."Bob"..Captain Kirk was smoking a pipe but
then it was "Bob"..not it was Spock..Spock was smoking a pipe and
grinning. No it was Captain Kirk..Captain Kirk was "Bob".."
The Man in Black made a slight adjustment. A small trail of blood began to
run out of the drooling frophead's one ear.
""Bob" appeared to me on the t.v. screen. He was captain of the
Enterprise...he was a better captain than Kirk...he managed to sell the
Romulins aluminum siding for their war ships....then he sold hair dryers
to the Klingons...oh and deodorant. He had a whole crate of the stuff he
sold to them. Best episode I ever saw...."
"Then he turned to me and looked at me. Really looked at me. Not like
Captain Kirk used to when he was ham acting but like he could see me. And
he began to talk. He said me name. He knew my favorite brand of tooth
paste. He told me secrets about myself I never knew. He said he'd give me
eternal life if I did a small tasks for him. The future was exactly what
Star Trek portrayed. I could be part of it if I'd go steal this letter
from some guy. He said to take my friend. He said women would fall over
me. He said I needed aluminum siding for my apartment...."
"Why did Bob want this letter!" barked the Man in Black trying to hurry up
the frophead's tale. He was slipping fast one of his eyes was spinning
around crazily and the other was clouded over.
""Bob"'s not been the same since the assassination...he's lost some of his
sexual potency..he wants it back. He thinks that letter from a goddess can
give it too him...He says I'd be like Captain Kirk..a woman on ever
planet...."
The frophead collapsed like a wet paper bag, pink blood and brain issued
from his nose and ears. I looked away, the other frophead fell to his
knees and puked. The woman made a little choking noise.
I flipped off my tape recorder and exchanged it for my other pistol. The
Man in Black retrieved his device.
"You killed him!" shrieked the remaining frophead cowering on the ground in
a pool of vomit.
"Shut up!" ordered the woman, "Better him than you."
"It was only an earthling," intoned the man in black. He put the skullcap
away.
"Hey, we're you get that gizmo?" I asked. He ignored me.
"Well now what? Back to the sub?"
"Indeed. These two must accompany us. We still have use for them." said th
Man in Black. He glanced off into the fog as if looking for our return
path.
"No!" whimpered the cowering frophead. "Isn't one of us enough. I never
knew when I sent in my $20 this would happen. I thought Bob was a joke.
It was fun. My friend made me do it."
The woman looked at the frophead in disgust and stepped a few steps away
from him. "What are you going to do with us?" her voice was steady but she
was pale. She was scared. Her eyes met mine then slid over to the Man in
Black's shades.
"Clearly we can't leave you here. You'll just cause us more trouble," I
said.
"Mabuto could use more Fishmen. Especially one as attractive as her."
--Mal 1991
===========================================================================
AND STILL MORE NEWS OF THE WEIRD
===========================================================================
Date: 17 Jul 91 21:47:00 EDT
From: STEPHANIE R KLEIN <kleinsr@vax001.kenyon.edu>
Subject: NOTW
Under the heading "Insolent Chariots":
General Motors notified owners of 1988 Buick LeSabres that the owner's
manual should be replaced because of a printing error. The notice came
with a corrected manual and an advisory: "Please place the [new] Owner's
Manual in your vehicle's `glove box' and discard the old manual or take
[the new manual] to your dealer for installation, at no charge to you.
Estimated time for this correction is five (5) minutes." Syndicated
columnist Mike Royko called a Chicago Buick dealer who told him that 2
owners had brought their manuals in for installation.
And in the chapter "Occupational Hazards":
A company trying to continue its 5-yr perfect safety record showed its
workers a film aimed at encouraging the use of safety goggles on the job.
According to Industrial Machinery News, the film's depiction of gory
industrial accidents was so graphic that 25 workers suffered minor
injuries in their rush to leave the screening room. 13 other fainted, and
1 man required 7 stitches after he cut his head falling off a chair while
watching the film.
And from "Odd Ends":
An 81-yr-old woman in Arkwright, SC, died of smoke inhalation after
apparently mistaking an end table in her mobile home for a fireplace &
setting a fire under it.
In Prague, a woman, distraught after learning that her husband had been
unfaithful, jumped from a 3rd-story window. She landed on the husband, who
was entering the building at that moment. He died; she survived.
During the same week in May, 1989 hit-&-run drivers in Washington, DC &
Oakland Park, FL were themselves killed within minutes by other hit-&-run
drivers.
===========================================================================
NEW EXCITING MEDICAL PROCEDURE, FUN FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY
===========================================================================
Date: Wed, 10 Jul 1991 11:14 HKT
From: Ed Spodick <LBSPODIC%USTHK.BITNET@YALEVM.YCC.Yale.Edu>
Subject: ***WARNING** - Some may find this an uncomfortable topic. It's
humour, but if you are offended then just delete it. Personally, I had
trouble containing my laughter. :)
----- Begin Included Message -----
A SLIGHT BIT OF MODERATE DISCOMFORT
by Mary Cartledge-Hayes
I've been confused lately by the arguments in the popular press over the
Testicular Imaging Device. Why do you suppose there's so much resistance
to this medical miracle?
In case you haven't read about this machine, it's the new and highly
effective method of diagnosing testicular problems at an early stage,
when the highest likelihood for complete recovery exists. In this
noninvasive procedure, the testicles are placed on a metal plate which
has been cooled to 33 degrees. A pre-calibrated device the aligns the
mass, automatically flattening it to the correct density between two
moving steel plates, after which a radiological image is produced. The
entire procedure generally takes less than forty minutes.
The test is well enough thought of that both the AMA and major insurance
companies have begun urging patients to include it in routine annual
physicals.
"Why wait for problems? Get your baseline at age 38 and one a year for
the rest of your life, and you'll never need to lose another night's
sleep worrying" three out of four doctors urge.
Contrary to what one might suppose, resistance is not centered on
concern over the radiology involved. That issue was fully addressed
early on.
"There aren't any guarantees in new technology like this," commented one
researcher who asked to remain nameless. "In fact, we'll probably need
to zap an entire generation and check the cancer rates before we can be
one hundred per cent certain. But we have full confidence in this
machine; we know it's a lifesaver."
The people questioning this concusion are the ones now benefiting from
it, those who've undergone the procedure. Reported comments in from
diagnostic clinics range from "Oh my God!" to "Turn this bastard off
before I break your neck!"
While it's true that the testicles are squashed flat, authorities
emphasize that the procedure is not painful.
"Some people will undergo a slight bit of moderate discomfort. We
suspect it's related to hormone levels, or maybe date of the last
ejaculation. But you also have to remember that some men are so eager
for sympathy -- their wives don't under
stand them or the kids are
demanding or the boss is giving them a hard time --that they use this as
an opportunity to vent their frustration. And we understand that. We
just hope people won't use that as a crutch to explain away their
indifference to good health."
The medical community remains surprised by the strength of the
resistance.
"We didn't have anywhere near this much trouble selling the mammogram,"
said one noted doctor who requested anonymity, "and it's basically the
same technique. Go figure."
People who have undegone TID respond variously to that comment.
"Women are stupid," said one.
"You're dealing with delicate tissue here," said another. "Well, yeah,
maybe breasts are delicate, too, but it isn't the same."
The third interviewee was more forthright.
"The deal with women," he said, "is that they're easily frightened. You
threaten them with death, and then you hurt them. That's socially
acceptable. The medical community just misgauged the climate among men.
Though we've come a long way, we haven't gone that far."
Women interviewed take a different view, "I'd be happy if he had this
test every month," said one. "His health is that important to me."
"I've even volunteered to drive my husband to the clinic," said a
second. "He cringes every time I mention it. I guess that just goes to
show how stubborn men are."
Promoters seem unconcerned about public acceptance.
"We'll sell it the same way we did the mammogram," says one. "All we
have to do is plant the seed of doubt. It'll sprout on its own. I
predict overcrowded offices and three-hour waits before the end of the
year."
A few lingering reservations aside, this writer thinks it behooves men
to hurry to a diagnostic clinic now, before the rush begins. In fact,
I'll go so far as to plead with men to do so. If you won't do it for
yourself, do it for someone you love. I know she'll appreciate it.
copied without permission from /The Funny Times/
----- End Included Message -----
===========================================================================
AND STILL MORE NEWS OF THE WEIRD
===========================================================================
Date: 10 Jul 91 10:45:00 EDT
From: STEPHANIE R KLEIN <kleinsr@vax001.kenyon.edu>
Subject: News Of The Weird (as usual)
Rather morbid weirdness from the chapter "The Only Way Out":
A 30-yr-old California man committed suicide in 1980 with an overdose of
drugs because, according to a suicide note, "I just can't live another 4
years with Reagan."
A 17-yr-old boy identified only as Eugene killed himself with a drug
overdose in Sevran, France, because his parents refused to pay for plastic
surgery that would enable him to look like Michael Jackson.
A 27-yr-old man & his 21-yr-old wife, who were likely to receive no more
than probation on minor drug charges in Rockville, MD, committed suicide
in full view of their parents & relatives by downing cyanide packets in
the courtroom just before their sentencing.
And from "Let's Make a Deal":
In Fitchburg, MA, someone stole a 3-foot-tall ceramic statue of the baby
Jesus from the creche set up by the rotary club and left this ransom note:
"We have Jesus. We will hang him unless the police leave 5 cases of
Budweiser here January 1."
John Alvin Jackson of Trenton, SC, admitted giving his estranged wife to
another man to settle a $200 debt because he was "red hot mad" at her.
After getting her to go with him under the pretense of spending a long
weekend at a lake to try to reconcile their marriage, he suggested they
stop by Frank William Yeck's place in Grovetown, Georgia, to pick up a
Bible. There, Jackson handed her over. Yeck placed her in bondage & forced
her to participate in various sexual activities before she escaped the
next day.
At Yeck's trial, she testified that she submitted to him because
she feared for her life & her son's. Yeck testified that the woman was a
willing participant in his actions. "If I had any idea they were against
her will, I would have stopped," he said. "I showed her how to enjoy sex.
Pain was the objective to a certain extent."
Johnson, who testified against Yeck as part of his plea-bargain,
said Yeck had assured him he would not harm her. Afterward, Jackson said
Yeck told him, "It's nothing serious. The marks will go away in a couple
of days. I know what I'm doing."
===========================================================================
COLD WAR FUNNIES
===========================================================================
From: aghst1@unix.cis.pitt.edu (Andrew G Hummell)
Subject: Even more cold war humor
Date: 10 Jul 91 22:36:51 GMT
LITTLE RED
----------
by WEWST1
from: "The Brothers Marx: Official State-Sanctioned Tales for Impressionable
Preschool Soviet Youth"
One day, when Little Red came home from the Young Pioneers meeting
and Informing session, her mother said to her, "Little Red, as you know,
this June we had the use of the communal oven, and so I have baked some
wholesome Russian rye bread which I would like you to take to your
grandmother at the People's Rest Home and Communal Farm." To which Red
replied,"I will be more than happy to Mother, because we Pioneers are to
help the old and inform on them if necessary." So off Little Red went
with the bread in her basket and the People's Song in her heart.
As Little Red skipped efficiently down the path to the People's Rest
Home and Communal Farm, she met a wolf who said to her,"Hello there, who
are you? And where are you going in such an efficient manner?" To which
Little replied "I am Little Red, and I am going to the People's Rest Home
and Communal Farm to give my grandmother some good wholesome Russian rye
bread." This interested the wolf, and he said,"Little Red I know some
people that would give good money for such bread; why don't you have your
mother bake some more bread and we can share in the profits." "EEEK!"
cried Little Red,"You are a capitalistic wolf, I do not want to be
corrupted by your decadent ways!" And she ran down the trail as fast as
her legs could carry her.
But that capitalistic wolf was not so easily put off from money. He
took a short, decadent way to the People's Rest Home and Communal Farm and
oppressed the worker into the closet, for he was also an imperialist, and
put on Little Red's grandmother's working clothes and lay in wait for
Little Red and her basket of wholesome Russian rye bread. The wolf did
not have to wait long before Little Red came knocking at the door. The
wolf said, "Come in Little Red; I am in bed." Little Red opened the door
and walked over to the bed and said,"Hello Grandmother, I have brought you
some good wholesome Russian rye bread that mother baked -- but
Grandmother, how big your eyes have gotten." The wolf replied,"All the
better to see the good wholesome Russian rye bread with." Little Red
said,"Grandmother, your nose -- it is big also." And the wolf said,"All
the better to smell the good wholesome Russian rye bread with." Little Red
said,"Oh, but Grandmother -- your hands are big too!" And the wolf
said,"All the better to take the good wholesome Russian rye bread with!"
And with that, the wolf jumped up and grabbed the basket of good wholesome
Russian rye bread. Little Red screamed for help, and this would have been
the end if it had not been for the fact that a group of soldiers from the
People's Revolutionary Army was cutting wood in the forest nearby for the
Russian Summer and heard Little Red's cries for help. The soldiers rushed
in and saved Little Red, the old people, and captured the decadent,
capitalistic, imperialistic wolf.
What became of them all? Well, for her bravery, Little Red received
many commendations and eventually became a high-ranking Politburo member.
The wolf was to be shot but was traded to an imperialistic country for a
hero of the People. Little Red's grandmother was eventually sent to the
People's Rest Home and Salt Mine in the North for having many decadent
"Beatles" records in her closet.
THE END.
********
The Heroic Tortoise and the Capitalistic Hare
---------------------------------------------
by Andrew Hummell
from: "The Brothers Marx: Official State-Sanctioned Tales for Impressionable
Preschool Soviet Youth"
Once there was a great race between comrade Tortoise and a capitalistic
lackey hare. The hare boasted of a sleek, new, fast, expensive sport-
automobile, while the heroic Tortoise drove a solid, well-built vehicle
made in his glorious Motherland. Indeed the hare's sport-vehicle, paid
for by the blood and sweat of the exploited proletariat in his decadent
nation, was fast, and it took an early lead; however, it soon broke down
due to inferior craftsmanship brought about by an inefficient capitalistic
system. Comrade Tortoise, driving a vehicle created by superior workers
in a factory owned by the people, then passed the capitalist dupe and
won the race thus proving the superiority of comrade Tortoise's Motherland.
THE END.
===========================================================================
SCENES FORM SURREALIST MOVIES COME TRUE
===========================================================================
Date: Thu, 11 Jul 1991 14:33:12 -0400
From: Kirk Crady <kcrady@POLARIS.CV.NRAO.EDU>
Subject: Bottom of the barrel post
[stuff deleted]
"A 12-year-old girl is under treatment at
the All India Institute of Medical Sciences
because ants emerge from her right eye.
Doctors have used medication to reduce
the number from 50 to 60 per day to 6 or 7
per day. They believe small holes in an eye-
lid may be hosting ant eggs, but surgery
and X-rays have been inconclusive. She re-
ports the condition irritating but not pain-
ful."
[stuff deleted]
===========================================================================
MOVIE REVIEW
===========================================================================
From: BIFF@BIFFVM.BIT.NET (THE BIFFMAN COMETH)
Subject: NEW MOVIE
Date: 12 Jul 91 02:51:59 GMT
COWABUNGA D00DZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I JUS T SAW EDWURD SIZZER HANDS II AND I THOT IT WUZ TOTALLY KILLER!!!!!!!
ME N MUFFY N MY BBROTHER WENT TO SE IT AND WOW!!!!! TOTALLY K00L SIZZER
HAND FX AND COOLNESS!!!!! RAD LOTZ OF GUNZ AND BANG BANG BOOM!! AND THE
GUNZ NROZEZ SONG WUZ NARLEE!!!!
I THOT THAT ARNULD SHWARZONEGER DID KUUL IN THE MOVIE BUT THE GUY W HO
ACTID EDWURD WUZ WIERD AND WHAT WUZ WITH HIM MEELTING ANDLIQUID AND STUFF
IDONT GET IT.
BUTT THE LINDA KONNER BABE WUZ TOTALLY MUSKULAR AND D00DZ!!!!!! HEY LINDA
ARE YOO OUT THERRE CALL ME UP I AM BABISH!!!!!!! LETS DO DA WILD THING
MAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE ONLE THIN G I THOT WAS NOT REAL ISTIK ABOUT THE MOOVIE WUZ WHEN THE
GUARD DUDE LIKKED LINDABABE ON THE FACE AND SHE JIST LAID THERE AND
DIDDUNT DO ANY THING. WHAT UP LINDA??????????????????????? GET IT
ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WELL D00DZ IT IS WAYK00L BEING BAK ON THIS BBOARD AGIN BUT I GOTTA GO
GETMY NEW COMMPUTER SET UP ITZ WAYK00L MY BBROTHER IZ HELPING IL POST A
BBOARD MSAGE WHEN ITZ DONE OK????????????? INTIL THEN
ICOWABUNGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PS: OH YEAH THI S BBOARD ALT.FAN.WORLORD IZ AWESUM AND IPOSTID TO IT CUZ I
HAVE A K00L SIG!!!!!!!!!!
BIFF@PSUVM.ANDREW.PORTAL.COM.XZ.US.RUTGERS.ARPA.BITNET.EDU.UUCP DUDE!!!
MAN!WOMAN!BIRTH!DETH!INFINITI!ROCKS!TREES!BIT.NET!BIFF@UUNET.UU.NET.EDU
---------- .-----.----- ##
|........+########### ######## #####f@o# BIFF@PSUVM.PSU.EDU
|........| ######### ######## #########- BIFF+@ANDREW.CMU.EDU
|...<....- ##-------# ## . BIFF!@NETHACK.NET.HACK.EDU
-..-...--- ##|.....|# ##
BIFF ## #### ##......|####### ######## WAITING -4-
## ### ##|.....-####### ######## ARMAGEDIN DUDE
## ## ##|.....|# ## IT"LL BE WAY KILLER!!!
######### ##-------# ##
######## ######### ## ## BIFF@BIT.NET
######### ## ## BIFF@BIFFVM.BIT.NET
##
BIFF the Digger St:25 Dx:18 Co:18 In:18 Wi:18 Ch:18 CHAOSTIC!!!!!!
Dlvl:1 G:0 HP:2(13) Pw:1(1) AC:7 Xp:1/17
HEY D00DZ K00L!!!ILEARND FRMO MY BBROTHERHOW TO COPY STUFF AND BUT I DONT NO
WHAT DOES THAT SECOND LINE MEAN WITH DLVL AND HP AND XP OR WHAT I DONT GET IT
===========================================================================
VOODOO BEER
===========================================================================
From: jsl@unix.cis.pitt.edu (John Lundberg)
Subject: Voodoo beer
Date: 5 Jul 91 18:16:16 GMT
Excerpts from "Call it Voodoo, but Texas Surrenders in Beer Battle":
(New York Times, 5-July-91)
"Just when a skirmish with a Louisiana brewery was threatening to become a
full-blown beer battle, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission has thrown
in the towel. Effective today [July 4], Dixie Blackened Voodoo Lager Beer
is no longer contraband in the Lone Star State.
Beverage officials banned the New Orleans brew in January because, they
said, its name and label, which shows a swamp, conjure images of witchcraft
and the occult. But on Wednesday, faced with legal questions, a retaliatory
ban on a Texas beer, and widespread ridicule, the regulators changed their
minds.
But the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission says it does not joke around
when it comes to voodoo. In June, Raymond Hoskins, supervisor of marketing
practices, said the prohibition "has to do with your cults and public safety
areas."
--
John Lundberg / jsl@unix.cis.pitt.edu / University of Pittsburgh CIS
===========================================================================
JFK's BRAIN STILL ALIVE
===========================================================================
From: chguest@pioneer.arc.nasa.gov ( Charles J. Guest )
Subject: Re: Is this REALLY true?
Date: 8 Jul 91 03:29:00 GMT
In article <13815@uwm.edu> j0nez@csd4.csd.uwm.edu (John William Bowman) writes:
=>Sorry if this has been discussed here before, but I just heard this on
=>a PBS program. (Direct all flames, if applicable, to my mailbox.)
You can not always believe what you hear on PBS, but in this case it is
true.
=>Does the government REALLY have Kennedy's brain on some sort of life
=>(life, for a brain?) support system? Sounds like a bunch of hooey to
=>me....
Kennedy's brain is in fact being kept alive. There is documentary
evidence to prove this in the files that Oliver North shredded a few
years back. The government has a real serious interest in keeping this a
secret because of ties to project bluebook. You see Kennedy's brain is
being taken care of by alien beings. It will someday be transplanted to
one of the 'faces on mars' and the stone will come to life. In turn the
Easter Island Faces will be subjugated by this new king. Our
government, using Elvis Presley as a liaison, has made these
arrangements with Porlachj Schnahug the alien who was taken prisoner in
Roswel New Mexico. You should also be aware that Mr. Tesla has been
given the job of taking care of the security arrangements for this
exchange. The most important thing for us all to remember is that the
CIA and George Bush have decided that security is of paramount
importance to this mission. Do not speak of this to anyone because if
you do, there is a strong probability that you will be
kildhgsdvxfvgbazhbsxujnxdhndjcmxj xnc
===========================================================================
AND STILL MORE NEWS OF THE WEIRD
===========================================================================
Date: 13 Jul 91 12:38:00 EDT
From: STEPHANIE R KLEIN <kleinsr@vax001.kenyon.edu>
Subject: NOTW
From the chapter "Marching to Their Own Tune" :
Lowell Davis of Savannah, MO wrote down the names of every person he ever
remembered meeting since the age of 3. By the age of 83, Davis had amassed
3487 names and filled 679 pages in a binder, recording them with notes
about each. The names are arranged in chronological order by places Davis
has lived. One example: "Leonard McKnight-- fond of chicken gravy."
And from "Gives Me the Willies":
Francisca Cruz, 44, of Los Angeles, was convicted of the murder of her
landlady. Cruz & her son dismembered the body in a bathtub, then Cruz
boiled the flesh, baked it in an oven, & packaged it. Her son then
deposited the packages in trash cans in LA's Chinatown district. He said
that his mother intended it as food for the homeless in the area.
Convicted of a series of sniper shootings in RI & MA during 1986 & 1987,
Russell J. Ducharme II said that he started shooting at people after
shooting at street lights "got boring."
From "Fruits of Research":
73% of the adults who responded to a poll by Parents Magazine said they
favored "a high level of patriotism" in the nation, but only 53% admitted
owning an American flag.
10 cows burp enough gas in a year to provide for all the space heating,
winter heating, & cooking requirements of a small house, according to a
study reported in _Epalog_, the official publication of the Environmental
Protection Agency.
And from "Missed the Point":
Preston Womack of Mableton, GA was arrested by Cobb County police after he
sat in a restaurant wearing a pair of jockey shorts on his head and would
not leave when asked. Police Sgt. M. Toler said later that "other than
wearing jockey shorts on his head & socks on his hands, he was well
behaved."
A 1982 United Nations report warned that sex education lessons were
failing in certain remote Asian villages. Observers found that the men
were swallowing birth control pills and, to mimic the health educators'
demonstrations, had placed condoms on their fingers & on bamboo poles.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Steph (StephK on IRC) "Undermine their pompous authority
kleinsr@vax001.kenyon.edu Reject their moral standards
Make anarchy and disorder your trademark
Stephanie Klein Cause as much chaos & disruption as possible
123 S. Madison But don't let them take you alive."
LaGrange, IL 60525 -- Sid Vicious
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
===========================================================================
NEWS FROM THE WORLD OF SPODE
===========================================================================
Date: Sun, 14 Jul 1991 14:33 HKT
From: Ed Spodick <LBSPODIC@USTHK.BITNET>
Subject: Here are a few more tidbits...
***********************************************************************
" I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of bringing about in any way
the social and political equality of the white and black races--I am
not, nor ever have been, in favor of making voters or jurors of
Negroes,-nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry
with white people."
-Abraham Lincoln
First Lincoln-Douglas Debate
August 21, 1858
***********************************************************************
South China Morning Post - 9 July 1991
_Bat Paranoia_
BRISBANE: A Turkish seaman who jumped ship to seek a new life in
Australia became so afraid of attack by vampire bats that he asked
to be sent home. Mr. Rafit Belir, 29, was walking along the north
Queensland road when harmless fruit bats filled the sky, but he
became convinced they were after his blood.
*************************************************************************
_America_ - South China Morning Post - 8 July 1991
_Design your own dinosaur_
by Jon Marsh
[reprinted without permission]
With all the problems facing the world today, it is
comforting to know that scientists are out there relentlessly
beating back the boundaries of knowledge in order to make our
planet a better, safer place to live.
Take Dr. George Poinar of the University of California at
Berkeley, for example. His life's work is to try to breed a
dinosaur from left over bits of dinosaur DNA found in fossils.
Luckily for Dr. Poinar, DNA, the basic genetic building
blocks of life, survives in objects as diverse as ancient Andean
corn, prehistoric Florida Indian brains and the gut of a 12,000-
year-old mastodon.
The bad news is that dinosaur DNA is in short supply and
after 10 years he has not found a single scrap of the stuff.
Undeterred, Dr. Poinar is concentrating on tracking down
chunks of amber resin that might contain the preserved bodies of
insects such as mosquitoes, which might have snacked on dinosaurs
back in prehistoric times.
"My belief is that there are dinosaur cells inside biting
flies trapped in amber," he said. "It's just a matter of finding
the dinosaur DNA and getting it out."
These are the instructions for a do-it-yourself dinosaur:
1. Find large chunk of amber that contains blood-sucking
insects that dined on a dinosaur shortly before their demise.
2. Extract genetic material.
3. Inject into embryo of living reptile, eg, an alligator.
4. Wait until the egg hatches.
5. Run like hell.
***************************************************************************
South China Morning Post - 11 July 1991
_Massive hunt on for 'atomic goat'_
Helicopters and aircraft are searching vast stretches of New
Mexico in America for a most unusual fugitive - a radioactive
goat.
Dubbed the "atomic goat", the animal escaped two months ago
during one of those federal experiments that seemed like a good
idea at the time. Luckily for it, but unhappily for the
searchers, it does not glow in the dark.
"We haven't seen it or heard from it for a long time," said
Mr. Mike Fall, a researcher at the Denver Wildlife Research
Centre.
The animal is one of 62 Angora goats fitted with collars
holding radioactive isotopes and radio transmitters.
The transmitters were supposed to track the goats' movements
on the Jornado experimental range in New Mexico and determine the
hunting patterns of coyotes.
The isotopes would identify any coyotes that killed the
goats, ingested the radiation and later were captured.
But 10 of the goats escaped to the wild, where they could
mingle with Bighorn sheep, now on New Mexico's endangered species
list.
Experts worried that the goats could infect the sheep with a
sexually transmitted disease and that predators would ingest the
radiation, polluting the food chain.
Nine of the fugitives were recaptured after only a short
spell of unbridled freedom and were slaughtered, as were the 52
goats who chose to stay behind.
Now, the last "atomic goat" roams free after two months.
Researchers have been unable to pick it up on radio, possibly
because the transmitter's battery has run down or he has managed
to tear it off.
Believing the animal has found a home on the range,
airborne officers equipped with tracking devices are on the prowl.
The orders: Get their goat.
-Knight-Ridder-
[Of course we all know that the Space Aliens got the goat. After all it
disappeared in the Nightmare Alley Area. Probably taken by the same band of
dimbulbs that got the fiberglass cows. I'm sure their scientst are still
scratching the grey little heads over this on.]
***************************************************************************
Lai See - South China Morning Post - 4 July 1991
_Rogues Gallery_
A chap we know who is professionally interested in financial
skulduggery applauded the news that the government is looking for
a private contractor to provide villainous-looking people for
identity parades.
"A few months ago, for a big fraud case, they needed five or
six suspicious characters to be in a line-up with a guy who had
defrauded millions of dollars out of people," he said.
"They brought on these scurvy-looking drop-outs, with greasy
hair, paint-splashed trousers and flip-flops.
"Then the, er, suspect turned up - and he was wearing a
cashmere coat, Italian shoes, and trousers with ironed creases in
them. He looked like a million dollars: the million dollars he
had cheated out of people."
Our source added that it was important that more investment
was put into the identity parade business, otherwise convictions
would not stand.
"We want actors," he said. "Not street sleepers."
Anthony Perkins is good at this sort of thing, but we
suppose he may be a bit pricey.
***************************************************************************
Lai See - South China Morning Post - 4 July 1991
_Beggar's Opera_
Mrs. _Lai See_, whose idea of promoting the free flow of
capital is to distribute her spouse's wages to beggars, spotted a
worthy candidate this week.
This was a wizened, apparently disabled old man in a
wheelchair, plaintively begging in Chater Garden, Central.
The first time she passed, he had barely enough strength to
thrust his plastic cup at her.
The second time she passed, it happened to be the end of his
working shift.
He climbed out of the wheelchair, placed his begging
equipment on the seat, and effortlessly wheeled it away towards
the Star Ferry, puffing happily at a cigarette and jingling the
coins in his pocket.
Will someone from the identity parades business give this
man an acting job?
***************************************************************************
South China Morning Post - 5 July 1991
_Martian Alarm for Kennedy_
The Director of the Crypto-Phenomena Museum in Malibu,
California, has announced the discovery of a volcanic formation on
Mars that looks like Senator Edward Kennedy.
According to Jon Erik Beckjord, who found the 5.8-kilometre-
wide formation in a satellite photograph in NASA's archives, the
crater "gives the impression of a square face, with fat jowls, and
a chin protruding out of the jowls. This is a characteristic look
of Kennedy".
"He's got similar eyes. You can see an eyebrow and a lock
of hair coming down over the head, and there's a slight smirk, a
satisfied looking smirk on the face," he said.
Mr. Beckjord says he has found a number of other images on
Mars, including one resembling Tammy Faye Bakker, wife of
disgraced 'televangelist' Jim Bakker.
Senator Kennedy, according to the _Washington Post_
newspaper, "expressed alarm" when told of the phenomenon.
"I knew I should have stopped eating those Mars bars," he
said.
***************************************************************************
Lai See - South China Morning Post - 5 July 1991
_Slipped Disk_
The Hongkong office of software firm Microsoft has just
launched its first "unerase" program, part of the DOS 5 package.
If you have unwittingly erased your company's entire
financial spreadsheet, this program will get it back.
The firm may wish to send a copy to Bogota, capital of the
South American nation of Colombia.
A computer in that city has just eaten up the Colombian
Constitution, according to the _Washington Post_.
The document was stored on a computer, ready to be presented
to the convention for a vote. Apparently there was no back-up
disk.
***************************************************************************
South China Morning Post - 11 July 1991
_Man leaking gas closes hospitals_
PERTH: The emergency rooms of two Australian hospitals were closed
after lethal gas leaked from a man who swallowed pesticide
tablets.
The toxic fumes caused Swan Districts Hospital staff in
suburban Perth to be evacuated and about 15 patients to be moved
from the emergency room of Royal Perth Hospital.
The incident also prompted a big fire brigade operation at
Royal Perth, which police called in to close roads. The gas is
inflammable as well as toxic.
Several doctors, nurses and ambulance officers were treated
for fume inhalation.
The unidentified man was believed to have swallowed four
tablets containing Phostoxin pesticide. He was found, collapsed
but still alive, in suburban Perth early on Tuesday.
When the tablets reacted with his body fluids, phosphine gas
was emitted from his body. The gas can be fatal within minutes of
inhalation.
The emergency started shortly after two ambulance officers
transported the sick man to Swan Districts Hospital.
Ambulance deputy superintendent Mr. Wayne Kerslake said the
officers noticed the fumes. As the smell became worse, they
turned on the air conditioner to ventilate the vehicle.
Staff at Swan Districts Hospital also detected the gas and
decided to send the patient to Royal Perth for further treatment.
Swan's emergency section was closed until chemical experts cleared
the area about an hour later.
The man dies about two hours after he was found. It was not
known why he swallowed the tablets.
-Associated Press-
***************************************************************************
_P.S._ - Sunday Morning Post - 7 July 1991
_Clouded Intentions_
Diners at the American Club's topnotch Empress of China
restaurant will have noticed the place has recently become a no-
smoking zone, with a sign on the menu politely asking smokers to
refrain from lighting up.
But the restaurant appears bent on testing the resolve of
frustrated smokers by providing an ashtray on each table with a
box of matches.
What do they expect diners to do? Set fire to the menu?
***************************************************************************
_America_ - South China Morning Post - 8 July 1991
_A New Menace_
by Jon Marsh
[reprinted without permission]
Neighbours and friends beware, a new menace is on the loose.
The millions of Americans who have been subjected to hours
of misery at the hands of merciless home movie fanatics are
awaiting the ultimate nightmare invitation: "You must come round
and watch my latest operation."
Yes, the surgery video has arrived. Surgeons across the
country have begun giving videotapes of operations to their
patients.
The video is recorded by a tiny mobile camera lowered inside
the body. A sound track provides running commentary by the
surgeon as they snip away at the offending part.
Karen Bennett held a party to show her gall bladder
operation and got mostly favourable reviews.
"At least you know they didn't leave anything in there,"
said one friends. "And it'll be something to show your kids one
day."
***************************************************************************
_P.S._ - Sunday Morning Post - 7 July 1991
_Shades of Difference_
Chinese Prime Minister Mr. Li Peng demonstrated some serious
gaps in his general knowledge when he toured the pyramids of Egypt
last week. Mr. Li compared what he had seen to China's Great
Wall, saying the ancient structures symbolised "the wisdom of the
working people in ancient times".
Doesn't the Chinese leader know the pyramids were built by
Slaves? Or, perhaps that was what he meant?
South China Morning Post - 11 July 1991
_Tourist Fines_
VENICE: Stepping up their campaign against "bad mannered"
tourists, Venice city officials have decided to fine visitors
strolling bare chested or wearing bathing suits in the
city.
***************************************************************************
Sunday Morning Post Magazine - 7 July 1991
_A Sticky Problem for Phoneys_
It looks as if opponents of those abominable portable
telephones have at last got their own caped crusader. He was
spotted in action on the Star Ferry, where he delicately applied
super-glue to the earpiece of a phone sticking out of the pocket
of a gent in front of him. We're told there was consternation
unlimited when the victim became attached to his toy.
***************************************************************************
South China Morning Post - 12 July 1991
_Diners taste the high life and keep coming back for more_
Diners in a central Chinese city found the dishes at 70
restaurants so addicting they kept going back for more - at least
until the authorities discovered the cooks' secret ingredient.
Officials in Luoyang found the restaurants were putting
opium poppy pods in dishes such as beef soup and wheat and rice
noodles, the _Health Daily_ reported yesterday.
The restaurant owners apparently wanted to guarantee high
profits by establishing a string of regular customers.
They brought in opium pods through various channels and put
them into the soup and seasoning, the newspaper said.
It added that the resulting dishes were not only addictive
but could poison the liver and heart if too much of it was eaten.
The sanitation inspectors who stumbled on to the secret
ingredient then set about searching all of the city's restaurants
for the poppy pods.
They seized more than 5,000 kilograms from a range of food
processors, including the 70 restaurants, the newspaper reported.
It did not say if any arrests were made or if the customers
were suffering lingering health effects.
The case had "aroused the attention of leading cadres
concerned in Henan province" and officials were treating it
seriously.
-Agence France Press-
***************************************************************************
meanwhile - in America.....
_America_ - South China Morning Post - 8 July 1991
_A Useful Contribution_
by Jon Marsh
[reprinted without permission]
New York's crack dealers are making a useful contribution to
society after all.
It appears that these overworked captains of the city's
narcotics trade are excellent organ donors who meet all the strict
medical criteria - they tend to get killed a lot, they usually get
shot in the head, and they rarely take drugs themselves.
"Few transplant professionals recognise the extent that New
York's more than six murders a day has in some way provided us
with the organs to practice our trade," Dr. Lewis Burroughs told a
conference recently.
"They're ideal. Most of them are crack dealers and they're
too smart to use drugs. They can't practice their trade if
they're on drugs."
***************************************************************************
Sunday Morning Post - 6 July 1991
_Column Eight_
by Stuart Wolfendale
[reprinted without permission]
[stuff deleted]
Apparently China is to erect a steel fence against Western
bourgeois liberalism.
I seriously doubt the necessity of this. It is largely
beyond question that nothing and nobody would bust a gut to get
into modern China in the first place. In fact internal ruptures
and worse have been contracted by those wishing to go in precisely
the opposite direction.
In my several visits there I have already been impressed by
China as the world's largest and most efficacious open prison.
Inmates are given enough to do, and a very large space to do it
in, without ever being given the slightest inclination to return
if ever they are let out.
Given too that there is not a decent bourgeois liberal drink
to be had outside a five-star hotel, the place also doubles as the
world's largest detoxification centre in the history of Betty
Ford.
Turning China into a closed institution worries me on
several counts. For example, I fear for this steel fence thing.
My only association with Chinese steel has been at the China
Products tin opener level, and there the cutting head buckled and
fell away in terror at the very sight of a bourgeois liberal tin
of Del Monte peaches.
If they build a fence of that stuff, Joshua of Jericho won't
need trumpets so much as a penny whistle.
[remainder deleted]
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--SUBINK 1991
