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Devil Shat 1998 02 12
.ili. Devil Shat Twenty .ili.
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Love, Sex and Thanks For All The Fish .............. by Morbus
It Came Upon A Love Scene .......................... by Morbus
This is Devil Shat Twenty released on 02/12/98. Devil Shat is published
by Disobey and is protected under all copyright laws. All of the issues
are archived at the Disobey website: http://www.disobey.com/
Submissions, email, and news should be sent to morbus@disobey.com. Your
comments are welcome. What do you want us to write about? Send an email
and let us know.
Back in my day, we didn't believe in fish.
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.ili. Love, Sex and Thanks For All The Fish .ili.
------------------------------------------------- by Morbus
This article had to come sooner or later, and what better time than now?
With Clinton and his thousands of whores, the words "sex" and "affair"
have been plastered all over the media even more than usual. This
doesn't involve some butt-grinding with a sports announcer, this
involves the man we have elected to run our country having a bit more
fun than walking around in a suit, avoiding cream pies (i.e. Bill Gates)
or puking in some dignitary's lap (i.e. George Bush).
Clinton can stand behind a podium and wag his finger as much as he
wants. He can get all puffy faced; he can phlegm on the microphone. He
can walk around with his wife and have pictures taken of him half naked
on a beach. Nothing can distract from the fact that our President MIGHT
have had sex with someone outside his family (there is some sick humor
if you read into that).
The point isn't whether he did it or not, whether he inhaled or begged,
or whether he accepted a suck. He can be guilty or innocent... we
shouldn't look at his character, but rather, what he is being accused
OF.
Sex. The deadly three-letter word. There have been more black flags
raised about sex than about gay pirates, mice with ears on their back,
or that stupid illegitimate sheep. Sex is what makes the world go round,
and there is nothing more flashy in media except perhaps death or
violence. We seem to be infatuated with the idea... that somehow that
three letter word was all that stood between us and existence.
Sex is sold on the street, sold in the media, sold in the movies. Sex is
a release or a job. Sex is oral, anal, penetration, kinky. Sex is sleek,
slim, and well curved. Sex is Madonna's crappy book, and Pamela
Anderson's stupid videos that keep getting released. Sex is a penis
inside a vagina.
But Morbus! Morbus! (oooh, oooh, question, question!) "What about the
sex that is shared between people who are in love? There is much more
than what you describe." Yes, Mr. Spock... I agree with you. Let me
explain:
I am an old school relationship man. I don't agree with kissing on the
first date; I want to carry her bags; I want to pay for everything. I
want to make her life as pleasant as possible when she is around me
(which nowadays is considered chauvinistic because of some weird woman's
right thing). I don't agree with sex before marriage.
To me, sex is the ultimate act of love. One to be cherished and saved
until you have that stupid marriage license and sure that your wife is
the one you will be spending the rest of your life with. Some people are
saying "So, Morbus is never going to have sex?" I see what you mean:
marriage means shat... there is no long term commitment anymore and
divorce runs rampant. Even with this constantly nagging in my head, I
need that irrational piece of paper. Piece of paper, peace of mind.
I could go on about what I believe in. But who cares anymore? I am one
of few. There are children getting pregnant at 14. There are guys who
have a girl in every town. I know people who can't begin to grasp my
view on life. For them driving to get boffed by Sarah, FiFi, and Ginger
is a habit, a lifestyle. They balk at the word "love" and live by the
word "lust".
For them, sex is a release. Bad day at work? Have some sex. Little bit
too stressful? Sex and some drugs. Kinda depressed? Round robbin': as
much as you can get before 3 am. Sex is merely a tool to get through the
tough times and release some of your pent up energy. And hell, sometimes
you can bring a friend, and tag team. Sex is a game or an appointment.
And sex is a job. Go to any major city and you can see porno bars,
prostitutes, and pimps. For a small amount of money, you can talk for a
little bit and then have sex, or just start in a pumpin'. Whores work
double time as psychologists, and the only pill they prescribe is a
muscle relaxant. And most of the time they are cheaper; unlike with
psychologists, you don't have to come back week after week. But, just as
people can not see my point of view about love and sex, I can not see
the pleasure obtained in sex with someone you don't even know. Peace of
mind before pleasure of flesh. Seven words which I live by.
And sex is also love. Rarely, but then again, I am jaded. Sex is shared
by those who see eye to eye, those whose minds work on the same
frequency, and whose smiles make the other all warm and fuzzy inside.
These people often don't even mention "sex". They call it "love", a big
difference. To them, it is no longer considered a release, a job, or a
tool. It is affection.
So what is love? Love is individualistic... any attempt to explain it to
other people will always fail.
What is affection? It used to be kissing. Your parents used to warn you
about kissing on the first date and make a big fuss about it. Now the
concern is about having sex on the first date. Sex has taken the place
of kissing. It is the new affection. Where can we go from there? Kissing
wasn't enough... otherwise it wouldn't have been eclipsed by a different
kind of penetration. After sex there might be nothing powerful enough
besides death. Parents will become paranoid about their children being
found dead at the bottom of a cliff, hands clutched tightly with someone
they have never seen before.
Whose hand is Clinton clutching tightly? It is not the American
public's. We love rising against people who are "better" than us. We
feel more powerful when we have bad thoughts about someone we should
hold dear to us.
And what if it isn't Hillary? Sure, we see newsfeeds of them holding
hands, and his family standing beside him pleading that we just let him
get back to "work". All for the American public. Does it really matter
if Clinton supposedly slept with fifty other people (or so the "all the
president's women" scarelines lead you to believe)? We can accept sex
being sold on our street, we can sleep around ourselves, we can get
married, divorced or cheat. Yet, the President, who we secretly hope to
know is as human as us, cannot do the same? Is sex not the type of
humanity that we want the President to display for us?
In a world where sex is neccessity and birth is evolution, does it really
matter? The media does not harp on what kind of milk we buy or what kind
of cereal we like to have in the morning. That is as much a part of our
lives as sex is... perhaps they simply have too many letters, or don't
look threatening enough.
Have your milk, your sex, your cereal, your junkfood, your TV, your sex,
your air, your work, your friendship... they are all a part of something
called life.
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.ili. It Came Upon A Love Scene .ili.
------------------------------------- by Morbus
"Well, see I was sitting in the corner, you see, so I didn't really
catch any of it, but I did catch enough to tell you THAT man is the one
who killed her! So heartless and cruel, right in the middle of the love
scene! Why'd you have to do it, mister? All I know is that I want you in
jail!" He wrung his sweaty hands and leaned into the microphone,
beginning to tell his tale. "I was busy watchin' the movie, sittin' in
the corner like I said before, eatin' my popcorn and enjoyin' the show,
and actually gettin' a little anxious about seein' what was gonna happen
next." The man blushed. "I had just put a handful of popcorn in my mouth
when I saw that guy" he pointed to the red haired man, "stand up
directly in my view, on my right. I was about to yell at him, when the
next thing I heard was this scream. And that guy," a croak, a falter,
and a nod from the interrogator to go on, "and that guy said something
and then raised his hand. And in his hand he held this weird sort of pin
thing, and there was something dripping off the end. It was definitely
blood, I'm sure of that! It all happened in about a second... and I hope
you go to jail, mister!" A nod, a pat on the back, and the man got up
and left to be replaced by a spiked haired, gum-chewing Chicana.
"Oh yeah, I saw the whole thing." she began. "How could I not, I was
sittin' two rows away, ya know! It happened about at the exact time that
the love scene began, and ya know, I was even kinda getting... well, ya
know. Now, don't think I'm a pervert or anything. I don't like that
kinda stuff, I like ya know, bad action Schwartzenegger films, but my
boyfriend wanted to go, ya know, so I went with him. I dumped him a week
ago, gettin' too fresh on... what? Oh yeah. Well, I was taking a sip of
my juice and I saw this guy come out to my left and laugh and then look
down. It was strange at the time, but ya know, oh well, it happens. My
ex yelled something, and the guy sat down, but I didn't hear no screams
or nothing, the music was so damned loud... oops, I'm sorry... and I
certainly didn't see that guy!" A point, a nod, a departure.
An announcement, a gesture, and an arrival. "I can definitely say that
that man is not the one you are looking for. My weekends are rather
mundane so I usually go to some of the new film noir being released.
Maybe you've seen some yourself? The Maltese Falcon? Maybe Casablanca?
Oh? Oh well. I was one of the first to arrive and I saw everyone who
came in, and he was not one of them." Another nod, another departure,
and finally another arrival.
"I know who that man is," the distinctly feminine voice answered. "He is
my husband. We went to the movie theatre together." A deep sigh. "We
went in hopes that it would give some ideas for ourselves, but at the
time that the scene started," a large blush and a shaking head, "he said
he had to go to the bathroom and left. The next thing I knew I heard a
scream and I looked behind me, and there... there was my husband
standing over this girl with a shocked expression on her face. There was
blood all over her seat, and just him, the girl, and that other guy
sitting at the end of the row. Oh, it was horrible, just horrible." A
handerkerchief was handed to her, and a glass of water. She used both
and then descended. And a little girl ascended.
"I was there with my mommy. She didn't want to go alone because she was
afraid of somethin', so I went with her and... I saw that man." A point
and a little shake that everyone could easily tell was a sign of
nervousness. Some more prodding, and then "Oh yeah, I saw what
happened." A secretive smile. "My mommy had put my hands over my eyes,
but I could see through them. The man was walking up the aisle and
talked to a girl. Something happened and he called her a bad word. Oh,
my mommy told me never to say that." Some more prodding, and the girl
snuck a look over to her mommy who gave her a small nod. "The man called
her a bi... a bitc... the man called her a bitch." The girl smiled and
clasped her hand over her mouth, and didn't let go until the
interrogation began again. "After that something happened but my mommy
moved her hands and I couldn't see anymore. But I heard a loud scream
and then it was all quiet and my mommy moved her hands and I saw the man
leaning over her with something in his hand. I didn't know what it was,
but I know it was sharp." A lollipop and a pat on the head, and the
mother replaced her daughter.
"I didn't really see anything. This is very hard, gentlemen. I'm kind of
a ... uh..., well, sirs, I like watching those type of movies. I brought
my daughter so she could be a witness if something happened to me, but I
never expected an actual rape would happen a few feet in front of me.
It's definitely not something I want my daughter to see." A few more
questions, repetitions of what others had said, and she too was
dismissed.
The man whom they were all speaking of sighed and walked up to the
light, drinking a glass of water on the way. He had sat passively
listening to all they had to say and now it was his turn.
"I only went to the movies because it was my wife's idea. I thought our
relationship was going fine, but she wanted more excitement, I guess. So
when the scene finally came up, I began to feel a little uncomfortable
and decided to go relieve myself and maybe play a few of the arcade
games. So, I told my wife and began to walk up the aisle when this girl
motioned to me. She seemed innocent so I went and leaned down to talk to
her. She then looked at the tie I was wearing and remarked on my tie
tack. She asked if she could see a closer look so I gave it to her." A
pause and the tie tack was shown, glittering as the light reflected off
the diamonds. She asked if it was from my wife, and I nodded, a little
puzzled, and she said, "Nice zircon." I guess I got kinda mad, I mean,
she was insulting my wife and I called her a bitch and then tried to get
it back. When she started to hand it back, it fell and landed in her
soda, and I reached down to grab it and then tried to dry it off, and I
purposely got some soda on her because you know I was still kinda mad at
her. Then... for some strange reason she cried out and I saw a movement
to the left and then this guy seemed to get off the floor and sit back
into his seat at the end of the row. I could see him put his eyeglasses
on and then something in his pocket, and I naturally just assumed that
he had dropped something. I'm tellin ya, I did not kill this girl and I
have no idea how she was raped, but I did" a forceful shout, "I did NOT
do it!"
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