Free Word Press Volume One - Issue One
THE FREE WORD PRESS
Volume One - Issue One
June 1999
fwp@cafemagnolia.com http://www.look.at/freewordpress
ELSEWHERE
The Free Word: coaxed from fools, stolen from liars, nipped from the lips of the wise, and yet here I am, front page. Yet where else should I be? Forgive my intrusion into your indisputably pleasant lifestyle, but, as Nietzsche proclaimed shamelessly: "To make my readers uncomfortable: that is my goal."
In the spirit of such spite, then, I present to you the Free Word Press. Fearlessly I sally forth into the world of the digital darkness of binary bits, though not for the first nor last time, to be sure. Thankfully, I have no anticipations or expectations festering deep within my soul save one, self possessing question: who will read the Press? Will it be the people akin to me, who read because they delight in it, or those who secretly love the discomfort I wish to bear? I pray it is the latter.
So, before you read further, I leave you with a question: has it ever struck you that one's armpits only perspire when one knows that one has forgotten one's deodorant? (or is it just me?)
Enjoy.
This issue ...
The Spider's Web - A new column by the award-winning writer Michael Hugen. He has been called "infuriating, elitist, a snob" and worse for his commentaries. Now you can read them and decide for yourself in every issue of The Free Word Press.
Kommunist Corner - A continuing farce by by Noame Ghregardus, head of the Stoic League of America and highest profile Secretive Platonic outside of LA.
Clintonic Depression - A medical report by the foremost (and only) specialist in the field of Politi-medicine.
and
The Great Ark - Put Adam, Eve, Joseph, Jesus and the rest of the gang in a bar in Glasgow, slap them up with a round of King Solomon's and this is what you get. Readeth on, sir.
The Spider's Web
Copyright 1999 by Michael Hugen
If you only use your computer and the Internet to play games, check the stocks and weather or look at pictures of naked women, chances are you haven't heard about much that's going on the world today. Hey, if you're chatting with women who say they're naked or want to tie you up, you might have an excuse.
Hello. In case you hadn't noticed, the world's on fire. Our politicians lie to us, somewhere there's always a war going on, teenagers are shooting up their high schools, idiot drivers are shooting other idiot drivers for being idiots and free love cost us one whole helluva lot.
So here we are in 1999, with the Internet fulfilling the role we saw for TV thirty-odd years ago. In The Glass Teat, Harlan Ellison called TV "the most incredibly potent medium of imparting information the world has ever known." Others thought it was a tool of Satan. Either one sound familiar?
They regulated TV and turned it into the mindless miasma we get to watch today. Sure, we have Steven Bochco pushing the envelope and showing butt shots on NYPD Blue. Who cares? We can pay our $19.95 a month and go visit www.buttshots.something (this is not a real URL I don't think) and see more than our fair share of naked butts. Want the unvarnished truth (wait, maybe that should be Truth) about anything?
With TV, you get what the news editors can safely show without losing ratings. With newspapers, you get it more in depth. This is the Internet, baby, and you can get everyone's side of the story plus some neat conspiracy theories thrown in for good measure. You make your own decisions, not believe what Dan Rather, Peter Jennings and Tom Brokaw tell you what you should believe. TV and newspapers are businesses first and news disseminators second. Trust me, I've worked in both.
Of course, the problem with this is that you have to think for yourself. Why else do you think the Powers That Be are so scared of it? How will they benefit by your thinking for yourself? They won't. You might actually find out that the gang of thugs who lobbied most heartily to impeach Clinton all had some skeletons in their own closets. There was a book published about it, naming names and dates. I never saw a book disappear off shelves so fast. No, sadly, it wasn't because people were buying it.
And I am *not* a conspiracy theorist. It's just that anything that approaches the Spider's Web gets caught, filed away for further thought and, if I'm very lucky, I get a column, or story, or play out of it. Where was I? Oh, yeah.
People who use the Internet are often found to be thinking for themselves. This is why a pre-teen can fix my computer problems faster than I can. That kid was raised with computers. So we have some free thinkers who aren't satisfied with what The Big Media tells them. They'll just run a search and spend a few hours on line. With little time and no investment beyond whatever their computer (or WEB-TV) and Internet access cost, they can have enough knowledge to hold their own with the so-called "experts," who all have an agenda, anyway.
Of course, this widens the ubiquitous "Generation Gap." Somewhere, some kid is learning how to put together a bomb, while his parents are watching "Wheel of Fortune" and screaming "Big money! Big money!"
In 1999, parents know they have to watch TV with their children and discuss it. That way, they might be able to avoid the poor child seeing something that would warp his psyche. After all, a school expelled a sixth-grade boy for sexual harassment because he "stole a kiss" from his girlfriend on the playground. Must have been that damn "Melrose Place" that turned him into such a predator. The girlfriend didn't complain, but a teacher saw it.
Thankfully, it doesn't require much to be a dutiful parent where TV is involved (although there are some horrific examples of TV abuse that I'll probably scream about later). Push a button and it's on. Push another one and the channel changes. Programming VCRs is as high-tech as many people care to go and I know plenty of caring, intelligent people who Just Can't Set The Time on a VCR.
Tell a parent they'd better get wired and find out Where They Want To Go Today, and the look you'll get is reminiscent of a deer's eyes staring into headlights. For those who've never had the bad luck to see that, it's fright. Sheer terror might be a better turn of phrase.
Learning to run a computer and navigate the Internet are investments that parents better be willing to make. Johnny and Sally have more access to more knowledge than might be good for them. They said that about TV, but I never was able to tune in that show about building bombs. Maybe it was on Public Access. Understand that I do not condone nor support censorship, but knowledge without understanding is a truly dangerous thing.
Every new generation elicits moans from their elders. "Kids nowadays! What are we going to do?" These comments are part of growing up. Ugh the caveman probably said it when his kid decided to paint pictures on the walls of the cave instead of just hunt, eat and sleep.
The Internet may just be the ultimate in cave drawings. Once we understand it, it's a whiz bang tool. It's been said "a little knowledge is a dangerous thing," but absolute ignorance is absolutely deadly.
Communist Corner
by Noame Ghregardus
Ok kids, today we're going to talk about our biggest enemy, Democracy, so that we may know how to defeat it when the revolution comes. "Democracy" is a buzzword meaning "acquiescence to the will of the United States or the industrialized North." We are all slaves under this system, slaves to the liars and cheaters that exist within our government. 90% of this planets resources are controlled by less than 1000 people. ONE THOUSAND PEOPLE WHO DO NOT WORK! The WORKERS are those upon whom the "nation" rests. Under the "Democracy" in which we live the government tells us that we can change things when we are miserable, but that is just another capitalist LIE! The masses are swayed by the campaigns of the politicians, and the campaigns of the politicians are funded by THOSE 1000 PEOPLE. Who actually decides who wins elections? THOSE 1000 PEOPLE! In whose favor will those politicians act? NOT YOURS! REVOLT!! ----------- Next issue: Are you free?
Clintonic Depression by Entropy Squared
The roots of this mental disorder can be traced back to the early 1980's, but it is growing in frequency as the millenium approaches.
Early Warning Indicators: In general, the group most susceptible to Clintonic Depression includes those previously displaying symptoms of a brain disorder easily recognized by the sufferer's illogical tendency to accept liberalism as a world view. There is irrefutable evidence that those who are predisposed to this illness can suffer an acceleration of symptoms if they experience prolonged exposure to William Jefferson Clinton or to information concerning Clinton's activities. An overexposure of information pertinent to Clinton can sometimes cause a rapid onset of the disorder in individuals one would normally expect to have immunity. As an interesting quirk, predisposed sufferers who are offered immunity' often experience a rapid progression through the disease and quickly succumb to its final stages.
Symptoms: One of the most difficult problems in accurately diagnosing Clintonic Depression is the lack of outward symptoms of those who are afflicted. While sufferers of this illness must be undergoing severe inner turmoil, they invariably display sheer genius in their ability to conceal their illness from family, friends and co-workers. Oddly, many of the afflicted, themselves, will come forward with claims of being previously aware of symptoms exhibited by another sufferer, after that other's illness has passed the terminal stage.
Terminal Stages: The sad and inevitable final stage of Clintonic Depression is a novel form of suicide. In the terminal stage the afflicted once again exhibit genius in their choices of suicide method. It is not clear at this time why sufferers go to great lengths to make their suicides appear impossible. They will shoot themselves several times from impossible angles or shoot themselves and drive to a park and lie down or pair up with a friend and lie on a railroad track and wait for a train. They have even gone so far as to get others to write their suicide notes, obviously with the intention of creating greater confusion.
Conclusions: Much more research is needed in the study of this disease. Known cases are difficult to verify and many cases have likely been misdiagnosed. There exists a school of thought which postulates the answer to this malady lies outside the realm of medical science and, indeed, lies in the political sphere. Many proponents of this viewpoint can be found at freerepublic.com
The Great Ark' by Jason Andreas
Before our story begins, it may be helpful if I explain a few things. You see, this tale is set in a parallel dimension, a universe like ours, but different at the same time. The technology in this universe is at the same level as ours - for example, they have television and aeroplanes and pay-per-view. However, the world itself is different. I suppose that you could say that it's still Biblical Times. The setting for our story, a small public house in the Partick area of Glasgow called The Great Ark, is, for some unknown reason, a centre point for every biblical big name' around. This means that Joey, the barman, can count amongst his regulars the likes of Jesus, Moses, Noah and the like. What you are about to encounter could confuse, terrify and horrify you in equal measure. Don't take it too seriously though, it is only a story. - The Narrator
The Saturday sun rose lazily over the Glasgow rooftops. It was 7:59, almost opening time at The Great Ark and there was already a small huddle of dawn-to-dusk regulars gathered outside the double doors. There was the sound of a key in the lock and the little crowd began to press forward. The Great Ark was open for another day of business.
Adam and Eve, who were always the first patrons inside, stood impatiently at the bar. Joey spotted them and sighed. It was going to be one of those days. A'right you two, what have I telt yese baith a thousand bloody times?' It mattereth not, Joey,' replied Adam, Two King Solomons please.' No.' Pardon me? I thinketh that you misunderstoodeth me, barman.' The last word had poison in it. No. I told you both yesterday, and the day before,' answered Joey calmly, And the day before that, and so on. I'm no' takin' your cheek anymore. Indecent exposure's still a crime in this city, I'm no' getting intae trouble cause you two canny obey the dress code.' Damnation and sufferation, we haveth our fig leaves. Is that not goodeth enough for you designer label types?' Righteth, damn! Why do I always start "ething" whenever I talk to any of you chancers? That's it. You two are barred until you get some decent claes.' He pointed at the door. Out!' Cometh on honey,' Adam said to his unusually quiet wife, We shall purchase our forbidden beverage someth other placeth.' They scowled at Joey as they left. [At this point, I feel that I should explain something. Being Bible legends, as they are, most of the patrons firmly believe that eth' must end as many words as is possible; after all, they have reputations to live up to. It's not big. It's not clever. (It usually goes out of the window after a few drinks.) For your - the reader's - sake, I have decided to censor out the remaining eths' as it can get slightly annoying. Thank you. - The Narrator]
Noah came in a little later on. He had a huge amount of paper under one arm which he threw down upon his table as he sat down. He ordered a double brandy, downed it in one gulp and began to rage at length to the rest of the patrons. Bloody Glasgow Council have declared that my Ark is an eyesore. It also,' Noah went into his government official voice - squeaky and annoying - Contravenes section two, paragraph four point six of the Equal Opportunities Commission's Guidelines, because I didn't use any Irish workers. I also have used wood which was below required safety standards. Then, then those bastards hit me with a fine for not having any fire extinguishers on board. Gaaahhhh! And then they told me...' This drunken tirade against Glasgow City Council went on for ages, so we'll just skip the rest. I think you've probably got the picture by now.
It was now early afternoon, and the bar was getting busier. Anyone stupid enough to sit near Noah was given a lecture on the uselessness of the Council. Joey had gone out for his break, leaving his brother Austin in charge. At this point, there began a strange commotion near the doors. The gathered patrons began to slowly move, as if dragged apart by an invisible hand. Moses stood at the doors, his arms outstretched, hands moving slowly apart. In other words: Moses parted the crowd. He strode confidently through the gap, a faint grin on his face. Al Kahim, the local Egyptian man walked in behind him and barely had time to scream as the crowd rolled back over him like a wall of water. Moses nodded with satisfaction and stepped up to order his drink.
Jesus entered next, with some of his Apostles [in this universe, they are now college students, meaning that they are untidy, rude and have the ability to drink twice their own body weight in alcohol] in tow. Only Peter, who had dropped out, and Thomas, were missing. They sat around a table as Judas was sent to get the drinks. Jesus began to teach his students.
Blessed are those who wish for peace, their reward will be in Heaven,' he began. Then, the questions started. Should we right this down?' Will it be in the test?' I don't get it.' At which point Thomas came up to the table. Sorry I'm late, sir. I doubt you'd believe my excuse. Did I miss anything important?' Jesus began to cry slowly into his drink as the Apostles filed out for their lunch break, passing Peter on their way out. He nodded a greeting to Jesus and approached the bar. Joey was back in his usual place now.
Hey, Pete. What'll it be?' I think ah'll have a cocktail today, Joey.' Fancy. So what're ye wantin'?' Hmm. How about a Bible today, Joe.' A Bible? Whit's that then, ah've never heard o' it afore?' Oh, you take a pint glass. Pour in a wee drap of relevance and top it up with meaningless rubbish.' Peter winked. Ho. Ho. Ho.' Joey answered, sarcastically, Funny. Laugh? Ah nearly started. Whit de ye really want?' Jist gimmie some water,' said Peter, a smug grin sitting upon his lips. No, I don't think so, pal.' How no?' Peter gasped. Well,' Joey began, Ah'm fed up o' youse lot gettin' the boss over there,' he nodded towards Jesus, who gave him a little wave, Tae turn it intae wine. Ah've lost big bucks out o' that scam. If ye're wantin' wine, buy it like anybody else.' Now it was Joey's turn to grin smugly. Peter scowled at him and slammed a note onto the bar. A' right, I'll have a wine. Pal.' Peter took his wine with bad grace and went to sit beside Jesus.
It had now just hit three in the afternoon. The television was brought to life by Joey and the customers gathered round, clutching their betting slips like vices. It seemed like easy money, the reigning champion - Goliath - was fighting some unknown farm boy called David somewhere in the Middle East. As the two combatants stepped onto the playing field, the crowd began to cheer and chant. Peter, ever the joker, began to chant Yahweh, Yahweh, Yahweh, Yahweh, Yah-weh, Yah-weh,' until Jesus kicked him under the table and gave him one of his looks.' Joey turned up the volume and the commentator droned over the bar;
...And it seems, folks, that Goliath has the upper hand here. He's over twice David's weight and just look at those pectoral muscles. He's going to be hard to beat. And there's the bell. Round one. Goliath's made the first move. He's got David in a powerful-looking sleeper hold and he ain't gonna let go. No, wait, the referee's telling him to break it. Poor David looks out of it already. He's staggering back to his corner to talk with Don King, his manager. Hey! What's going on? Don King has just gotten into an argument with the referee! Ladies and gentlemen! This is astonishing! My word! David's just hit Goliath with a slingshot! The Giant man just fell like a ton of bricks! David's pinning him now as Don King goes back to the corner! The referee counts, one, two, three! It's over! David has won here today! I can't believe what I just saw! Ladies and gentlemen, that was the....' Joey switched off the television, accompanied by a chorus of boos and jeers. Torn up betting slips began to cascade to the ground as the crowd moved away from the TV. Thomas came rushing through the doors, betting slip in hand.
What was the result? Have I missed it?' Joey told him. Thomas punched the air in delight. I doubted that Goliath would win! Woo-hoo! I've cleaned up! See you all later, suckers!' With that, he sprinted back out of the door, nearly knocking down Jonah, who looked bewildered by all the commotion. He seemed unhappy.
What's the matter, Jonah?' asked Peter, You usually look like you're having a whale of a time.' The bar erupted into laughter. What's a guy like you doing in a plaice like this?' More laughter. Even Jesus began to snigger. Is it true what I've been herring about you?' Joey began to snort with the effort of keeping the laughter in. I'd better stop harpooning on, eh? Else I might get a wha...' His joke was cut short by an object - Jonah's fist - striking his mouth. He reeled backwards and fell over a bar stool, lying unconscious where he landed. No-one bothered to pick him up. Moses began to howl with laughter.
Well done, Jonah! Ho! Ho! I was wondering when someone would shut that little idiot up. Let me get you a drink.' Jonah joined his friend and a semblance of calm returned to the bar.
A copy of the Evening Times had now begun to circulate around the bar. Most of the regulars were laughing at it. On the front page was a picture of Adam, sans fig leaf, being pushed into a police van. The headline said Adam Shamed!' The main story was about Adam (obviously), who had gone to visit Cain in the Young Offenders' Wing in Barlinnie Prison. He had been drunk and had tried to smuggle in a file underneath his fig leaf. Observant prison officers (remember things are different in this universe) had spotted the object and arrested Adam. His case would be brought before the High Court in a couple of weeks' time. There was no sign of Eve, but she was reported to be visiting the Snake House at Glasgow Zoo.
The next couple of hours passed pretty quietly. Peter picked himself up, dusted himself down, and left as quietly as possible. Jonah and Moses had started to argue about whose round it was.
Ah'm tellin' ye, it's your round!' Shouted Moses. Liar,' retorted Jonah, I'm just after buyin' you a tequila slammer, it wis bloody dear, too!' Who are you callin' a liar? Ya fishy-smellin' wee bum!' Fishy-smellin'? That's rich, comin' frae a wummin like you!' I'll show ye a wummin! Huv a faceful o' heid!' With that, Moses cleanly broke Jonah's nose with his forehead. Jonah collapsed, groaning. Moses took the opportunity to launch an almighty kick between Jonah's legs. Jonah screamed like a choirboy and passed out. Moses spat on him and turned back to the bar. Joey stood with his arms folded, his face grim. I'm fed up of this. You're nothin' but a troublemaker, Moses.' Joey pointed towards the door. Get out. You're barred until ye learn to control yersel'! Move it!' Moses, grumbling under his breath, turned and marched out of the door. Jonah was carted off in an ambulance about five minutes later, but was later released after a quick check-up. (He is currently suing Moses for all he owns. The lawsuit is expected to cost the taxpayer thousands.)
Joseph came into the bar and headed for his usual solitary corner. He ordered a bottle of vodka, drank it in one gulp and staggered out of the door, pausing only to smash the bottle at Jesus' feet.
What's the matter with that guy?' Asked one of the newer patrons. Joey shook his head sadly. His wife had an affair. It destroyed him.' Oh. I see. Is that the guy she did it with?' He pointed at Jesus. Naw, that's the wean she had. He's the son of god. But that's not what hurt Joseph the most...' Oh? Then what did?' Asked the man, interested despite himself. She went about tellin' everyone that she's a virgin. That her and Joe have never done it. He got the piss ripped out o' him somethin' awful.' So then whit happened?' Oh, he dumped her, moved back wi' his mother. Mary was crushed, for about five minutes. Last I heard, she was a hooker, hangin' around Queen Street.' I see. Nae wonder the guy drinks.' Aye,' Joey agreed, shaking his head, It's a pity, right enough.'
It was almost closing time by now. The bar had begun to empty. Jesus had ascended to his room for a sleep. Tomorrow was Sunday, his busy day, and he needed his rest. Moses was discovered later on. He was naked, tied to a lamppost, and had a pig tattooed on his chest. His hangover lasted for three months. The apostles took an all-nighter, desperately trying to finish their dissertations - which were due in the next day. Noah, later that night, chained himself outside the council offices and claimed that he would remain there until his problems were sorted. He's still there now, three million choruses of We Shall Not Be Moved' later. David went on to win the World Belt after a few bouts. He then fired Don King as his promoter, claiming that he was bad for his image. King swore revenge and hasn't been seen since. Goliath, on the other hand, retired from the arena. He was invited onto a Jerry Springer special entitled; Size Does Matter When Your Father Is An Alcoholic Cross-Dressing Trailer Park Attendant Who Strips For A Living While Your Sister Wants Her Head Frozen And Your Mother Ran Off With The Marriage Counsellor's Dog Walker.' It smashed all ratings records ever recorded. God sat on his throne watching the world below. He created a giant aspirin and went to bed with a huge ice pack. He seemed to be getting a lot of headaches these days...
So there you have it. So ends our tale of another day of Drunk and Disorderly in The Great Ark. Makes you think, doesn't it? Is it really worth drinking? After all, you might end up like these clowns. OW! Those thunderbolts don't scare me! I've told you before, God, I'll write whatever I wa... - The Narrator
EDITORIAL SERVICES FOR WRITERS
30 + years experience in fiction and non-fiction. Award-winning writer/editor can fine-tune YOUR manuscript for less than most reading fees.
michaelhugen@worldnet.att.net for quotes.*
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The Free Word Press would like to thank: Michael Hugen + Noame Ghregardus + Entropy Squared + Jason Andreas + Everyone who flamed me on alt.zines + Huey P. Long
This publication is Copyright 1999 by Free Word Publications. Submissions are copyrighted by the author.
