Tripe #4 The savvy issue
Tripe Issue Four - August 26th, 2002
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|I|S|S|U|E| |4|
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- What is TRIPE? - xod
- Inventions - BMC
- Space Quests - Marquis De l'Homme B
- An Athenian Tale - Will
- "I Made A Strong Screwdriver and Wrote for TRIPE" - by Phairgirl
- The Moralities of Drinking Urine - McPhisty
- Faeries - unknown
TRIPE will make ya laugh, make ya cry. Just check out this savvy issue and you will see why this is a zine that you cannot live without reading. The world loves TRIPE, but TRIPE does no such favour in return. It's all about TRIPE, the unstoppable mega-zine from the greatest persons in the world.
The writer of this editorial is moving now and is going to put the next few issues together right now. Even though the writer of this editorial is making them now, you'll still have to wait to read them. The world can wait for TRIPE. Nobody tells TRIPE what to do. Not even the writer of this editorial.
Enjoy your magazine.
What is TRIPE?
- xod
This is a question which has bugged me since first hearing about the e-zine they call TRIPE.
Tripe as I know it basically means 'nonsense' and people who talk about silly things are said to be talking 'a load of tripe'.
After consulting the dictionary I found out that Tripe is also:
'The rubbery lining of the stomach of cattle or other ruminants, used as food.'
It comes from Old French you know?
But I don't actually think TRIPE is either of those (ok, it may be the first but I think thats what the TRIPE collective WANTS you to believe).
I have come to the conclusion that rather than being a simple and for the most part, innocent e-zine TRIPE is actually a manifesto for the planned takeover of the TRIPE collective and TRIPE is actually an abbreviation for:
TAKEOVER (and) REPROGRAM IMPRESSIONABLE PEOPLE (of) EARTH
You have been warned.
Inventions - BMC
Somewhere in human history someone decided to create "inventions." I bet everybody was jealous when "sliced bread" was invented (that was the first invented thing). Before that time, people usually relied on God for things. Apparently one day God stopped giving people cool stuff like figs and the planet Earth, so we had to start doing crap for ourselves. Anyway, Adam created sliced bread and Eve was the first person to use a salad fork. After that, they created children and set off a chain reaction that still affects us taday.
There are a good many inventions that we ignore or take for granted in today's time. Since this has been happening, I will take it upon myself to tell you what we would be missing if it weren't for those first guys who started making stuff.
We wouldn't have guns, and that would make it very difficult to kill other people or kill yourself. You'd have to use a knife or sword or something else instead.
We wouldn't have knives or swords. It would be really tough to cut stuff, and this takes us back to the alpha model of sliced bread. It wasn't all that great, as historians would have you believe. It wasn't sliced so much as torn in half, and then the two parts were also torn in half. After this happened, the guy ate one piece and the other three pieces dried out. Then he left the pieces on the windowsill and created Penecillin.
We wouldn't have Penecillin. I think this would be a bad thing, though I don't really know what Penecillin is.
We wouldn't have recipes. Instead of eating coleslaw we would have to eat a head of cabbage and then chug back a jar of mayonaise as they did back before they created coleslaw, mayonaise and jars.
On a completely serious note, we wouldn't have refrigerators. Can you imagine having to store meat before they had fridges and freezers? How would you do it? HOW?
When did they invent electricity? In one sense I appreciate it because I use it to power my computer, vibrator, etc., but I've never really enjoyed static electricity. It hurts. It shocks me and makes me sad.
In short, I think inventions suck. If I remember, I will ask Cog to revise his article in issue 50 and abolish inventions.
Space Quests - Marquis De l'Homme B
Earth and it's dreams are but a grain of sand adminst the great divide known as space. On the surface where nations hold council, and below the sea where Atlantis rules, wars have been fought and won, and the greatest of these have been against the minions of space and specifically Rygal IV.
Deep in the heart of great Atlantis lies a portal to Rygal IV and it's home planet of the pssisipians on RagamoOn. With these fair pod like creatures, much trade has been conducted and both worlds have prospered.
The pssisipians cloaking technology shadowed Atlantis from the world which it seeked refuge from during the great uplifting, and from Atlantis flowed mounds of MoOn Monstar flesh and trinkets which the creatures of Rygal IV found to be a delicacy.
Head slaver and defender of the nation was overseer of this trade route. As the son of King Namor, Prince B, affectionately known as the Marquis De l'Homme B slew the horrid MOnStarS from the MoOns of Mars, and Saturn, including the delicious Titian MoON StArS, which were noted as extremely docile (even for MoOn MonsArs).
Always the ladies man, the Marquis took his favourite hobby of swordplay to a form of art, as he would invite the cities womenfolk to partake in a day of watching him beat the best swordsmen of the seven seas.
Today was a day like any other. The Marquis bested and then humiliated his brother BMC in a sword duel, taking his sibling's sword from his hand and spanking his backside repeatedly as BMC swam about the courtyard squealing like a little girl.
Little did Prince B know that his sword would be needed in a much deadlier way on this day. As he finished with his brother, a messenger came. Huffing and puffing, the messenger gave tidings that the prince's father King Namor requested his presence in the royal court immediately.
Not one to shirk duty, the gallant Prince strode to the palace with purpose. A summon meant his blade was needed. Were the Juniper's crossing the border again? His love for those brutal creatures tore at his heart as he thought of fighting those evil beasts. Perhaps the MoOn MoNStArS had finally made their move to enslave the world and prove the Prince correct in his harsh treatment of those fair space creatures.
Thoughts fled the Prince's mind as he came to the great, gold doors of his father's royal court. Time for father to tell him the quest to be, and let idle thought flee and sword blade flash red!
Namor was sprawled on a royal throne like a laze drunkard. Trade with the Pssisipians had made the kingdom fat, including it's king, but that was not what bothered the Prince. His father had always been a man to enjoy his pleasures, and his debauchery had become more wide spread, so much that the royal courts could not contain the rumours anymore. The talk of Atlantis was of its fat king and which son would dethrone the decrepted king once and for all. Loyal to his father to death the Prince would never betray his father, but the MoOn MoNSteSS performing oral sex upon the king was more then the fiery Prince would allow.
B moved fast. Faster then his father could anticipate, in a smooth motion, the foul beast laid headless much to the king's surprise; credit to Namor and all the years of statemenship, he regained composure seamlessly and indulged in a snippet of the dead creatures flesh and laugh lavasciously at his son's actions.
"Ah my son always the vigilant warrior. You have come far with the blade, perhaps the best ever! I do not think that even Proteus in his prime could achieve that move."
The Prince was in no mood to banter with his father and implored that he get to the point of this summoning, for surely his father did not desire him to come all the way to the castle to see him engaging with the enemy.
"Yes, always the serious son, you get straight to the point." The king gestured to a tapestry that hung from the ceiling. Finely woven, the tapestry proclaimed the treaty with the Pssisipians, and the great trade pact with them that changed the Kingdom's fortunes and destiny forever.
"The Pssisipians have stopped trade and sealed the portal! Not much is known as to why the trade stopped, but a few rumours of civil war with the zealots of Rygon has come to a boil and they have declared an end to Atlantean trade and politics." The King paused to take a drink of mead before continuing. "The zealots must have gotten some help from people in high places and shut the portal with us. Without weapons supplied by Atlantis, our friends in the Royal capital at SsPazur do not stand a chance!"
The Prince as overseer of the trade routes had heard some of these rumours and had seen for himself that the portal had been sealed from the other side and all contact had been cut-off. The Prince had disregarded this as normal occurance as the portal was sometimes sealed without warning. Indeed Pssisipian politics were a strange game. Too complex and multi-layered for a simple Atlantean to bother himself with. Atlantis was a warrior kingdom that had grown by the sword and ruled by it as well, and the Kahleh' (Warrior of Warriors) Prince B was the defender of the kingdom.
The Prince asked his king how he came into play into this great dilema, and what could he do to correct it. "Ah my son, our seers have found a loop hole in the seal of the gate. Once a day for but a brief second the gate opens and at that point our seers will cast a spell to hold it long enough for you to pass inside and arrive at Pssisipia. The spell is a dangerous one and will undoubtably kill them, but they have faith that you will correct this horrible wrong so that the kingdom may prosper again."
"I must prepare for my journey at once father!" With that the prince strode from the court to his private chambers........
Taking to the streets, the Prince needed a stiff drink and a sultry mermaiden before what could be his final journey, lest he pass on to the next life in the valley of Sodom.
As the Prince drank he could not help but ponder what the cause of the trade blockade was. Many ideas came to mind, but only one seemed to keep coming back and popping into his head. Three months before, Plutonian MoON mONsTArS riding dreaded giant squids swept thought the gates. The Pssisipians had said that they had dealt with the problem, but this prince didn't buy it.
The next day the Sea Prince removed a mer-breast from his face and prepared to meet destiny, armed with his deadly Rapier and truncheon. The Prince threw on his gold circlet and platinum buckler and strode to the magic space portal.
The king and royal mages were present and had prepared all the rituals, and were prepared to cast the final spell that would send the prince to the other world.
"I must caution you my son, the Pssisipians have become engrossed with much of the human culture and we have delivered many items of the above world to their grasp. There taste for music is terrible, and suffice it to say Eminem has held the top charts for nearly a year. He evened toured there and was made a honourary statesman." The prince shuttered at this news. Thoughts of horrible rhymes, bad beats, and absolutely no flow coursed through the prince's mind. He would have to put and end to that performer as well and do both worlds a serious favour...
Just as the thought of murder crossed the Prince's mind the final chant was complete and the portal opened in a swirling majesty of reds and blues. "Quickly my son enter and open the trade route...For Atlantis!"
With that the Prince entered and destiny began............
To be Continued.
An Athenian Tale
by Will
I awoke one morning to see all the walls in my house had been torn down and replaced by
Greco-roman columns.
"Geez man, what was I thinking with that Argentinean last night?" I slyly thought to myself.
Little did I know that I had used the same word(albeit in different phrasings) twice in one sentence/1st person expunging, very sad.
"Very sad George." I thought to myself
But no matter! There was a mystery to solve now, that of my Hellenistic new dwelling. I crawled off my marble slab mattress and tossed aside my Corinthian prostitute and charged head first into the social room. I didn't know this, but apparently ancient Greeks wore only handsome loincloths made of gravel, much like the one I was wearing at this exact moment.
Shitballs! I did it again, but this time I realized my writing error and slapped myself readily for it. Anyways, I entered my living room to find a spewing fountain bedecked by Grecian intellectuals, all made of stone' um I mean, human stuff.
So to reiterate, I had spent the last few weeks in a freewheeling frenzy, milling about with South Americans and Alaskans. You see, being in ill alignment with the Tao, I only knew the two extremes. The soft and soothing Epsom salt bath that is the middle path was still obscenely foreign to me. For instance: for lunch I had eaten a dolphin (a.k.a the black people of the sea) and for dinner I had eaten snow, and then I had made a trip to the local rock show where inter continental name sharing worlds collided with hellish fury... Now, much later, the Argentine I was with was getting very impatient, due to my as of yet unfulfilled promise to introduce her to the shimmering new style of music called "hobbit rock."
"Listen ho-bag, I'll let you listen to hobbit rock whenever I damn well please! Which is now!"
After mumbling this I threw on my Blind Guardian cd and entered a world of hobbits dwarves and men. But something was wrong! My musical journey through time wasn't stopping! I had now gone much further back than hobbit time(1842) and was heading dangerously fast for Ancient Greece time. Now.. I was looking forward to seeing a real life nymph after all these years of masticating to her picture in the D&D monster manual for sure, but I was very wary of what else I might find in Athens.....
Sadly I have already completed my cyclic story, so you don't actually get to hear what happened in G-land. Too bad for you.
the end
I Made A Strong Screwdriver and Wrote for the Neo-Comintern
by Phairgirl
This seems to be the way most of my forays into writing for others begin. I get a little tanked. I read a little ASCII. I fly off the wall and pull up a blank blue screen for typin'. I stay within my neat 78 character limit, put two spaces after every period, and smile through my stinking teeth.
Zines. What an interesting principle. They've been around since people could type such prolific nonsense on their mAd bAd Atari Tandy Commodore oldschoolness. I had none of those things. I had paper and pen. I had kindergarten. I had the world in the palm of my hand, and I had no idea what I was going to do with it. I was swimming in an endless sea of possibilities. Technology was only on TV and in the homes of those much more learned than me. After all, Scooby Doo was cutting it for me back then.
And yet here I am. Somehow, either luck of the draw or predetermined [insert religious dogmatic fate principle here], I rest my laziness right in the middle of all the madness. And even though I don't bother thinking or attempting to make sense anymore, it all affects me somehow. Digress? Not a chance.
Everyone is constantly learning. Everyone is thinking, feeling, eating, sleeping their world away. It's all being stored somewhere. Some bastard is gonna quote this in their mind and spit it back to me when I'm twice as drunk and four times as annoyed. It will never go away. And to think that my contribution to the world includes a text file entitled "K-R4D vs. EMOTICONS :)" which will probably end up being studied as part of some bastard history class in the future, just as Bill and Ted are pulling into their docking station and reminding everyone to Be Excellent To Each Other and to Party On, Dude.
I hate to think that I'm making any sort of impact on anyone, or that I'm being taken seriously at all. At the same time, I hope someone IS taking me seriously so that I can mock them for doing just that. Just a little dream of mine. Neurotic and insane, yes, but that is something for which us nuts all live. What use are ADORING FANS if you can't mock them?
I do all things to excess. I can't just write one text file, I have to write forty-five. I can't just download one mp3, I have to download over four thousand. I can't just be happy with one Pokemon, I GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL. And such is with me sharing this with you. Why would I write a file for some OTHER 'zine unless I could generate hits for the 'zine I edit on my own? WELL HERE WE GO, GRATUITIOUS ADVERTISING, WWW.ANADA.NET, THERE, I HOPE I'M HAPPY WITH MYSELF NOW, I HOPE I'M FULFILLED AND A LITTLE LESS JEALOUS THAT OTHER PEOPLE GET MORE WEB HITS THAN I DO.
I wanted to write something friendly and productive, really, I did. But too much vodka and a bad case of nothing better to do will really force a person to go to extremes. I admit it, I can't deal with life and I've spent my entire childhood wanting to be Rogue from X-Men (which was only recently re-fired by the movie). But hey, it makes for good reading. Or does it?
The Moralities of Drinking Urine
By: Mc[Ph|st]Y
The Day I became a man was a different milestone in my life than what one would generally expect. No, I did not get laid. No, I did not torment and watch a small gopher die. No, I did not grab the ass of a rather attractive nun. Rather, I stumbled across something... something of unbelievable magnificence. Something that not only changed my mortal life forever, but haunts me with a question of philosophical pain.
I decided to clean my room. "So what" you say? "There's nothing magnificent about that!" you scream? "WHAT ARE YOU?!? QUEER?" you shriek in horror? No, none of the above. Although I do have something about a certain BMC spitting out half eaten golden grahams all over my floor like he was a victorian fountain. "So what's the big f*$@!& deal" you impatiently ask? well, let me begin this epic tale...
Under a 40 Gallon hamper of dirty clothes I found the Holy Grail (End epic tale here). It was the most beautiful cup, made of mud and small dead creatures, it was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. And to my amazement, it was still full with Holy water... or so I thought.
I grasped the cup with my two bare hands and gently chugged the hole thing back and promptly belched "Supercalifragelisticexpealaotious" with content. But a bitternes, an ungodly dreadful bitterness, plagued my sense of taste.
Urine. I just drank a cup full of Holy golden piss.
Now I'm sure we've all accidentally drank a cup of golden goodness, but how many of you can say you've done it from the Holy Grail? But you see, therein lies the question that plagues my thoughts and leaves me tossing and turning when I go to bed at night.
Was it the Urine of Jesus? Perhaps one or all of his Apostles? Had somebody possibly found the Holy Grail before I did, drink it, and than pee in that damn cup?
Okay, so lets for a second pretend that the first one is the most likely of the 3. I drank the Urine of Jesus of Nazareth. Will this act be considered one of extreme worship? Will I be forever rewarded for performing the most humbling of activities? OR will it be considered pure blasphemy? Will I be condemned to eternal punishment in the firery pits of that really hot place who's name I can't quite remember at this point (I think it's called Dellaware but I can't be for certain)?
I suppose the last result that pops in my mind after drinking Jesus' spot free rinse is one that kinda scared me: Do all christians do this? Is there quite possibly a secret instance of communion where they drink the wine, eat the bread, and than dive their heads into the closest available Urine? Is that a tradition practiced solely in the United church?
I dwell and dwell and dwell on this never-ending question and quite frankly it scares the hell outta me. I'm not even sure when I'm going to die now. I thought before I'd probably die when I'm 80 or so... but what about now after drinking the Urine of Jesus?
.........please help............
-Mc[Ph|st]Y
Faeries
by UNknown
...are the best thing to happen to the world since the invention of the garden gnome, but let me start at the beginning. Faeries. Some love them and some hate them, but they have been a world ???? from time immemorial, to the sinking of Atlantis, to the rising of the pyramids, to the death of Buddy Holly, to this time and date.
Sure we've all encountered faeries, either in the forests of Nottingham or in the mines of Minolta, but few people have actually gotten the best out of these creatures. While they are beautiful to look at whether you spot them floating in a graveyard or bathing in the fountain of a faerie garden, most people don't know what to do once the've spotted them. The simple fact is that once you've seen them you can either try to catch one or ask for a blessing.
If you try to catch one, you'll probably just grab some thorns and nearly die, but if you do catch one you can show it to a friend. You can also put it in your pocket, and it will save your life if you ever get hit by a car or a horseman with an axe or anything like that. So that's one cool thing to do. Another thing to try is to simply ask them for a blessing, and oh, do the blessings from faeries ever make you happy. There are many many treats that the faeries will give you, and the best one is a kiss from Teesha. This will stimulate you and heal any ailments that you currently have (eg. nicks, scratches, bad breath, ingrown hairs). The only negative side effect of this is that you will fall in love with her and be unable to do anything for the rest of your life except for dream of her and write /<-/~4/> text files.
The next time you ask the faeries for a blessing, you could get lucky and have them teach you some faerie lore. This will make you wiser, and you will get to go to meet the Wooly Whatsit (he's a Snowzo, by the way). Then when Leota and the elves are trying to put out a fire in the schoolhouse which is actually a tree, you can make yourself grow and you can put out the fire with a few huge barrels of water. That would also rule.
That's probably all the cool stuff that the faeries could do for you, but if it's any constellation, they couldn't do much more for me either. If this article has convinced you to go out and look for faeries (which it doubtlessly has) then let me wish you good luck! Also, before you seek them out you might want to get a whole bunch of gold and gems so that the faeries will have some stuff to play with while you hang out with them.
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|T|R|I|P|E| Issue Four - August 26th, 2002
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website = http://scene.textfiles.com/tripe/tripe.txt
