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CLiT #11: Moo Moo Shamoo
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[ iT'S gREEK fOR cLIT!! ]
...episode XI... :: _Moo Moo Shamoo_
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"Oppose Stereotyped Party Writing?"
by AlterEcho
In Issue 2, 2001 of Farrago <www.union.unimelb.edu.au>, the University
magazine with a circulation of 10,000 or so, the following was printed on the
contents page:
"'Stereotyped writing, or the "eight-legged essay", was the special form of
essay prescribed in the imperial examinations under China's feudal dynasties
from the 15th to the 19th centuries; it consisted of juggling with words,
concentrated on form and was devoid of content.... Thus "stereotyped Party
writing" characterizes the writings of certain people in the revolutionary
ranks who piled up revolutionary phrases and terms higgledy-piggledy instead
of analysing the facts. Like the 'eight-legged essay', their writings were
nothing but verbiage.'
Lu Hsun's rules of writing
Rule 1: Pay close attention to all manner of things; observe more, and if you
have observed only a little, then do not write.
Rule 4: After writing something, read it over twice at least, and do your
utmost to strike out non-essential words, sentences and paragraphs, without
the compunction. Rather condense the material for a novel into a sketch,
never spin out the material for a sketch into a novel.
Rule 6: Do not coin adjectives or other terms that are intellible to nobody
but yourself."
Hmm. I think we've broken pretty much every rule here. Go the Chinese
imperialists! Our verbiage rules!
Further, I find this whole passage to be musclaire and hislably jonclesfu.
Who the fuck is this Lu Hsun faggot?
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"Da N00 CLiT Cr00!!"
introductions by AlterEcho
CLiT #10: She Rides! saw the sad, sad departure of our young blonde friend
Asadersialle. And after that aforementioned triumphant release, PipeScream
too tendered his resignation.
<AE> Hey it's time to write something again.
<PS> I'm not going to write anymore, because I'm a pansy-boy fuckwit
poojabbing dickless shyte.
<AE> Oh.
Alas! Woe was us! With much hand-wringing and brow-furrowing,
the head priests of CLiT congregated in the inner sanctum of the CLiT temple,
located within the sacred grounds of Western suburbia. After three days of
meditation and the consumption of much holy water, the gods did appear to the
priests, and lo! the gods did reveal the path they were to follow. And the
holy men looked, and it was good.
And here's how it really happened:
<AE> Do you reckon we need more people now?
<Aerial> I've already got someone.
<AE> Oh.
And so, the new team is as follows, for better or for worse, for richer or
for poorer, in sickness and in health, drunk or sober, and all that other
claptrap:
AlterEcho -> Well, I'm writing this, so obviously I'm still here. Duh!
Aerialisticish -> It's not like Aerialisticish has anywhere else to go, or
anything else to do, is it?
AlkalineAngel -> Yes, despite her Essendon supporting past, the decision has
been made not to have AlkalineAngel assassinated. Oops, I think I promised
not to mention Essendon anymore. Sorry, sorry.
And now... introducing to you... our newest member... replacement for
Asadersialle... drumroll please...
Abyss! Woohoo!
What an anticlimax.
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"Barbie the Mechanical Engineer"
by AlkalineAngel
And so one day Barbie was walking through the mechanical enginering faculty,
6 foot, perfect hips, breasts, legs, hair, skin, smile, when she suddenly
came across some engineering students. Anyone looks good against the greying
walls and soft creaky floors of the run down building so you can imagine how
perfect SHE looked.
Actually too perfect.
It just didn't make sense to the four engineering students in the hall
waiting for their exam to begin. It was their second time round in the
subject and this time after much studying, something didn't seem quite right.
Their all-knowing lecturer had said that nothing in this world was perfect
and defects can be used to determine qualities. So yeah, something was
definitely wrong.
So they stopped Barbie and put a crack propagation between her eyes intending
to create an elliptical hole in her brain only to fail miserably as her brain
turned out to be a polymer that had disintegrated anyway at room temperature.
Suddenly she had bending moments in her legs, a distributed load in the shape
of a parabola on her left shoulder and creviss corrosion in her ear. For some
odd reason her face was coated in zinc but that didn't really matter as after
chucking it in ice it had undergone brittle fracture and fallen off anyway.
Oops.
Maybe Barbie shouldn't have come to the Mechanical engineering faculty.
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"Tribute to Some People With Whom I Used to Work"
by AlterEcho
I landed my first real job when I was 17. I had just finished my high school
education, and was looking for some employment experience before I started
university. The job I found was as a service associate in the kitchenware
department at a fairly large department store. This job taught me many
important things, some of which include:
a) Kitchenware departments are very, very, VERY busy, and hence tend to be
filled with competant, yet stressed staff;
b) People who shop for kitchenware will be stupid around fifty percent of
the time;
c) The people you work with need to become your friends, otherwise you are
up shit creek, sans paddle.
It is the last point on which I would like to dwell. I have now had this job
for more than sixteen months, and I have seen several staff members come and
go. I'm the sort of person who hates people exitting from his or life, and
some of the people who left the kitchenware department were at least semi-
important to me. It is to these people that I raise my hand, in the famous
AlterEcho salute (which I stole from my kitchenware buddy Vi; see below).
Wayne
=====
I was pretty darn shocked when I heard Wayne was leaving. Wayne was a
kitchenware full-timer, a veritable institution in our department. This one
time, on band camp - oh wait. Wrong train of thought. This one time, he took
Sally's badge and changed the name on it to Boris. Teehee!! He had some good
jokes, some bad jokes, and a good eye for the female customers! I remember
discussions about women in leopard skins, women in g-strings, women with red
hair... When I grow up, I want to be a Wayne. :)
Anne
====
D'you know, if any of my grandparents were alive, I'd like for them to be at
least a little bit like Anne. I'm not saying Anne is really old or anything,
just really, really nice. Friendly, sweet, helpful, considerate polite. All
the characteristics that you want in a little old lady. I'll bet she could
drive really well too.
Jan
===
Sometimes, I worry that the full-timers and part-timers bitch about me when
I'm not working. I think a lot of this fear stems from all the complaints I
heard about Jan. I don't think I'm willing to comment on the claims that Jan
was bossy, insensitive and rude to the full and part-timers. I think Jan and
I got along okay. I will, however, go so far as to say this. Jan was very
short.
Lisa
====
If I had to describe Lisa with a single word, that word would be 'YUMMY!'
Mmmmm heaven would be a naked Lisa, some chocolate body paint, and a can of
whipped cream. I have a hard-on thinking about it. Did I just write that?
Oops. I think so. But you would too, I swear! At least, if you're a
hetrosexual male, or a homosexual female. Who's alive. And not blind. This
one time, she wore incredibly tight pants and... ahh... I need to stop this
paragraph.
Fiona
=====
Fiona and I did training together, so working on the floor at the same time
was fun. Sometimes, shy and retiring people like me have problems at jobs for
which lots of human interaction is required, both with the staff and the
customers. Fiona, however, was fun, funny, friendly, and err... rather fine.
Heh. The only problem is, she transferred out of kitchenware into lingerie.
Visits to Fiona are rather embarrassing. If only during visits, we could
transfer Fiona out of HER lingerie... Hmmm. Is it just me, or am I feeling
horny today?
Louise
======
Louise is probably my best friend in the kitchenware department. Or at least,
'was' my best friend. I say probably, though, because I'm hardly the type to
proclaim friendship with people. Let them come crawling to me, that's what I
say! Still, Louise and I get along pretty well. Someone commented we seem to
have a love-hate relationship, and I guess that pretty much sums things up.
The funniest thing that I remember happening with Louise was one time when I
slapped her really, really hard across the face, but I suppose you had to be
there. And be me. We had some laughs though, hardy ha ha.
Lone
====
Lone is the most recent of those who have upped and gone. In fact, Lone's
upping and going is so recent, it hasn't actually taken place yet! Tomorrow
is the day of Lone's last shift, a shift that ends a relatively short, but
extremely high quality stint in the kitchenware department. I remember Lone's
first shift, during which I discovered her name was Dutch, and was actually
pronounced Lorna, due to the acute accent on the 'e' in her name, which
didn't exist on her nametag, and does not exist in this textfile. From that
day onwards, I refused to pronounce her name Lorna, instead sticking
resolutely to the phonetics of her name-badge. Good old Lone! I also remember
teaching Lone how to close a register, which she balanced, thanks to my
natural register genius. An ironic event, because Lone became much more
knowledgeable than I did and probably ever will be. Clever lass! :)
Danielle
========
Actually, Dani isn't leaving, but someone told me she was. That freaked me
out, cos Dani is one of the nicest people in the kitchenware department. She
always worries that I'm coping okay with uni, but the event I will always
remember was one which happened during the Christmas rush. For some insane
reason, our manager at the time decided that it would be a good idea for me
to work behind the gift-wrapping counter. OMG! I totally freaked out. I'm a
guy, for crying out loud! Wrapping parcels, that's... that's women's work!
Luckily, the first person I served had a box of chocolates. And he was a man,
an understanding man. And even more luckily, Dani came to my rescue, finding
an experienced wrapper from level 5 to take my place. For this, I will ever
be grateful.
We go throught quite a lot of managers too, but we don't care about them.
Why? Because they don't care about us!
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"stranger in a familiar place"
AlkalineAngel
suddenly finding yourself in a
big group of people
who claim to be your friends
though you barely know them
and they can't see through your
opaque exterior
to what's really inside
so you sit there talking
and smiling
and laughing
but not really knowing
what you're saying
faintly catching the joke
with a polite smile as icing
and you wonder where
the real jokes are
and the real smiles
they used to be around everyday
but not lately
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"I Have No Title"
by Abyss
First of all, AlterEcho shouldn't be giving me only 1/2 an hour to do this.
Secondly, he should've given me something to write _about_. I could write
about correct tampon insertion for all it was worth. I don't feel like
free-for-all'ing at the moment. But here goes.
And I don't like introductions, so I'm not going to do one. We can just
pretend we've been friends for years. :)
*sighs* But the reason why I don't feel like writing is because I miss John.
Who is 21. And works at a Salon.
...You know it's unsafe when you start rhyming about someone who you can make
giggle and run around the room, _literally_. So. I need someone to romp with
but I'm without and stranded.
Damn.
*Darth V. breathing noises*
"Let... go... Abyss...
...Feel your anger... your pain...
...Come to the dark side"
*AlterEcho stretches out a hand*
"Abyss... I... am your fahtha."
(TOO. MUCH. POT.)
John smokes pot... and I let him cut my hair. 'S a good thing I didn't pay
him.
(But I still miss him.)
It's a cruel world.
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"Something Lame"
by Aerialisticish
There was something very important and very hilarious I had to tell you all.
It was something about my wallpaper, I think, but I'm not real sure cos that
doesn't make a lot of sense. Then again I don't usually, but I'd give myself
more credit than that, especially seeing as I dont have any wallpaper. I
don't know where I'm getting this 'wallpaper' reference from either, it's
just what bubbles to the surface when I try to sift through my memory, which
isn't all that reliable. Oh well; I guess I'll wait till it comes back. Maybe
next issue if you're lucky, maybe I'll have to wait till the archvillain
shoots me and my life flashes before my eyes to finally discover this amazing
secret. Ahh fuck it.
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"This is a Public Service Announcement"
by AlterEcho
And on that pleasant note, I'd just like to talk to you for a moment about
umbrellas. What's going on with all the umbrellas? It was raining the other
day, and when I walked around uni, it seemed like everyone had a little
protective piece of material stretched over their heads! It really made me
sick. What's wrong with a little bit of H2O? Umbrellas are so fucking
retarded. (Mine is blue.)
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yOUR cLIT hEROES aND hEROINES, iN aLPHABETICAL oRDER...
aBYSS * aERIALISTICISH * aLKALINEaNGEL * aLTEReCHO
wEBpAGE :: hTTP://tHEpLEASUREzINE.cJB.nET
eMAIL :: cLIT@hOBBITON.oRG
(c)OPYRIGHT cLIT 2001 * aLL rIGHTS rESERVED * mADE iN aUSTRALIA * 26.5.01
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