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      touch me, i'm dick |
pg. 49. . .Editorials & such c1997-1998 Mongoose Type Entertainment |
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"Don't you see? Somebody has to kill the babysitter." pg. 49 note: if you sent an editorial and it didn't get printed, wait until next issue. This is not for lack of space, someone was out of town, and he took his email address with him #1
And since Lockout wrote a reply, here it goes: "i read your letter concerning the fact that you were very offended by my article... in response to this the editor has asked that i give you a response, so here it is.... I'm Glad.... and that's all i have to say about that." #2
Response: to what? That was purely poetic. The such: This is really beginning to sound trivial, but uh, you may have noticed that the Toilet Chronicles is still here. Well, the editors changed their minds. There's a new title (suggested by Antihero), sounds good enough to me. Aside from that, nothing. So move on! pg. 178 People love to use excuses for your behavior. It's not that you ever change after a new phase in your life begins, but that means nothing. People need to use that against you. To me, if someone is an being asshole, it's not because they think they're all of a sudden cool, it's because they are a asshole. Nothing else. I remember the time the world somehow found out I had a girlfriend. It was her fault. I never claimed her. So, what happens? I think I am the shit because I have a girlfriend. I hadn't changed. Why would I? No female can alter my mood. Just ask them. Having a female does not mean shit to me. If it did, I would have more of them. Another instance of this happening was sometime after I turned eighteen. Some of you know the routine. Supposedly, turning eighteen is supposed to mean that "I believe I can do whatever I damn well please." I had no idea. Well, that's what I mean when I assure my mother I can get a ride somewhere without travelling with the family. I suppose, saving her the trouble of being at a place early is a sin. Okay, so being an asshole isn't the only gateway to "now you think you're something, right?" This was kind of short, so I'll give you a moral to take into the world, children. Never assume that a person has an excuse as to why they are acting the same. It may be that you haven't the foggiest idea as to who they are, but you may have just heard something so you just have to go out and put that gossip to work. Whenever someone throws some piece of shit logic in your face, not only do you tell them to "fuck off," you never, under any circumstances, question your current actions. Hell, if you had changed, your friends would have already stopped hanging out with you. Was that a subtle hint? pg. #2 I awoke late one night not very long ago, the moon still whispering of the magician in the too-tight silver hat; in fear of another clock-chime I had been counting, one by one, awhile and images borne from sounds about the room, afraid and pining repose and peace the clock-tone counting had dissuaded. I found a movie, which appears without occasion beyond that that night I could not sleep, "The Shawshank Redemption" as I recall, and no other recourse could be better favored than midnight haze, blurred frames, twenty four a second, flashing in line, constructed in delicate mood. But the haze was lifted thinly, losing volume, in the small hours of one late evening. As the tale unfolded in beautiful, dark sequence. About innocents, and innocence incarcerated by wrongdoing, failure, lapse of spirit mindful. Minds full of laws and that law which brings its correction, Duly, one would hope faintly; dark, dust halls and bars of Shawshank, among others. Presenting no more than walls, cobbler's stone circumventing a sandy expanse, in which the aggregate society of prison is acted out in a marionette show, of mismatched rules and irony set in the hollowed rock where days are waited out, in useless time for regrets. The film speaks of hope where hope is countermanded by perception of guilt... Why am I so tired? pg. 257 Amerika's undying interest in celebrities is pathetic and sickening. It's impossible to open up a newspaper without reading some bullshit about some hack of an actor who did something stupid. Had it been done by Mr. Joe Reg, no one would have given a damn. Maybe this is nothing more than another attempt by the media to get us into thinking what they want us to think. I had always been under the assumption that this obsession was only a fetish for neglected housewives looking for an escape from their measly lives. But if you think about it, they're too damn busy watching the fucking soaps to read anything other than tabloids. I'm not talking about tabloids. That bullshit is strictly for the aforementioned housewife. Sure, I read the occasional movie magazine, but I don't go pining over some overpaid, glorified Hollywood whore's fucked up marriage to a loser too drunk to get his shit together. They're all fucking idiots. Not just the interested public, but the bitch who keeps getting married over and over again just because she's trying to fulfill some father figure. Well, if Amerika is interested in incest, why don't they get cultured and read Shakespeare. If the former Mrs. Joe Reg got married four times, she wouldn't be on the front page of some bullshit newspaper section. She would be the scorn of rumor and speculation. In reality, women get labeled for doing that kind of shit. Not only that, no one's asking for her autograph or writing books about her sorry ass love life. Another pointless piece of coverage the ever consuming public seems to be interested in (if they aren't why the fuck do I have to hear about it) is celebrity housing. That is the craziest bullshit I have ever seen. Why in the fuck would someone want to know that some schmuck paid FIVE MILLION DOLLARS for the ugliest house in California. Hell, if you've got to read about it, you sure as hell can't afford it, so why give a damn? If we just got rid of all this celebrity gossip crap, have you any idea what we could do with the space. Positive news stories and all that other kind of shit. Besides, they have magazines for that. c 1997 G. Nih Ton. All rights reserved. pg. 42 have any of you seen those new network ratings? it seems that the ones that they had weren't keeping kids from watching things they "shouldn't." big surprise. so they are going to implement new ratings, like "S" for sexual content, and "D" for dialogue. now, if you think about it, how the hell are stupid ass ratings going to keep kids from seeing gang bangers on TV blasting each other, or seeing people have sex on tv? mind you, i don't personally think that kids shouldn't see these things. if a kid is old enough to handle it, fuck it, let 'em watch. since when did it become normal to think that if a person (kid) hears something in a song, or sees it on TV, they're automatically going to do it? i don't' know about you, but, at no time in my life would i hear some rapper say something like "blast the pigs, muthafuckas", and then decide that was the thing i was going to do the next day. did any of you do that? i don't think so. if some kid wants to kill somebody, he's going to. if some kid doesn't want to kill someone else, no song or TV show is going to make them. when are government types going realize that that's not the way it is? it's just like the proposed censorship of the internet. all that is meant to do is to keep children from seeing porn. now, if a parent doesn't want their kid to see porn, try telling them not to. that should be enough... until they're about 9. then, miraculously enough, they're gonna start thinking for themselves. can't have that, can we? and i think that's the problem that brought on all this tv censorship shit. the simple fact that parents don't trust their kids enough to handle that kind of thought, like kids throughout the past few decades have, and they expect the government to take the power and use it to guard their children against bad things. that's not the government's job. learn to be a parent. that's it... i've said my piece. pg. 1999 You know, I'd like to be sexist as hell and just say that (only) women are trivial as hell, but I can't. I can't because I've seen "Friends" too many times.. Watching that crap really makes you hate society, because you can't help but to realize that there are too many people out there like that. Thankfully, I can say I'm not trivial without being painted as a hypocrite. We all know these kind of people who can't help but to wonder if they're wearing the right pair of socks. It's sickening. There aren't just the people obsessed with petty (materialistic) triviality. You've got the other kind of people obsessed with their own little world. It always struck me as a chore to overhear people chatting ears off over some little minute episode in another person's life. I understand how people talk about their lives. That's cool. But it does not have to be the end of the world if someone decides to turn right when turned left. Get over it. You won't die. Neither will they. But maybe I want to die. If someone keeps going on like that, you can't help but to want death in that petty ass conversationalist bullshit. pg. 007 Now is time to hit that all important, overly exploited topic: Race. We've all got our own thoughts on the matter. The problem with discussing it is that every time some media humping prick wants to discuss race he wants controversy. That's why the wounds don't heal, because everyone of our so-called community leaders wants one thing more than peace. Coverage. Well, if I get coverage for my thoughts on the matter, then so-fucking-be-it, that was not on my agenda. What will heal this country of its racial ailments is desegregation. Kennedy's decree against segregation didn't do shit anywhere. Go to a restaurant. Get on a bus. Go to a movie. It isn't a polka dot country. It looks like it never will be. Every time I watch the news, there's some idealist wanna-feel-better prick complaining about how you can't blame the present for the fault of the past. The hell I can't. Why do you clutch your purse? Or speed up and lock the doors at night? You wouldn't be doing that stuff if you had ignored the actions of a previous generation. I can't peddle some bullshit phrase like "forgive and forget" without laughing, so I'll try something different. How about this: Jump head first into a six foot public pool. What? (For those who have never done this, I'll explain.) The signs say don't do it, but that's the point. Society didn't want Aerosmith and Run-DMC to remake "Walk This Way," but they did and then there was a classic on two different plateaus. If you can mix a little rap with your rock, or vice versa, then you've done you part to make this world a better place. pg. 113.5 Once again, like we told you, here goes something that will help you dwindle the days of life down even quicker. Here goes some book suggestions. Hopefully you like them. If not, how about this, go to a bookstore or a library and find one yourself. What doesn't kill you can only make you stronger. Unless it's War and Peace. The Catcher in the Rye, by Jerome Salinger. Surely, you were expecting this. Salinger may be dead, but his anti-hero lives on. The Crow, by James O' Barr. The original version. Top Dollar gets it with a hammer, not a gun. The Basketball Diaries, by Jim Carroll. You probably didn't see the movie, but the book was better. Think of it as The Catcher in the Rye you aren't supposed to read. Better? BANG!, by Henry Rollins. America never looked sweeter. Specifically American Hardcore. This Side of Paradise, by F. Scott Fitzgerald. A pampered brat goes into the world. Bad As I Wanna Be, by Dennis Rodman. It's all about honesty and being yourself. How uplifting. Deadeye Dick, by Kurt Vonnegut. He has more, but this one rises above the rest. A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess. You've probably seen the movie. Read the book and raise hell. Farenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury. Understand the importance of life, literature, and happiness. Try this on for size. The question for next time is this: Best movie scene where the dog dies. This is the one you've been waiting for. Movie questions don't get any better than this. It doesn't matter how he dies. It can be slowly, violently, peacefully, or even killed over and over again. It's happened. pg. 1 by: Armchair Critic Big hair. Obnoxiously loud music. Drug induced dancing. Scantily clad music. No, I'm not talking about Freaknik. I'm talking about those wonderful characteristics that describe none other than eighties rock. The heyday of MTV when it meant what it stood for and the occasional and ignorable gimmick of VH-1. What brought this on you ask? Well, the other day a friend and I were listening to highlights of his vast collection of those monsters of rock, and a game ensued. Guess who's who. It was far too easy. All I could do was wonder: how in the hell did they get this far? For every group with a unique song, there were fifty others to copy it. I say song, because that's all each of the monsters had. Minus a couple of exceptions like Van Halen and Guns-n-Roses, a group had one piece of music (whether it was original, I don't know) and copied it a hundred times but changed the lyrics. I guess kids back then were even dumber than those today, because a helluvalot albums were sold back then. You know what, I was wrong. They didn't just have one piece of music, they had two. There was the obligatory mellow song. I can imagine the trauma underwent when they had to stop snorting powder long enough to write a "different" song. I can actually smell the wood burning, and it's a forest fire. You're probably trying to figure out how they pulled it off. Well, I think I know how they did it. Perhaps if you play the hard one backwards or maybe even just slow it down a bit it sounds just like a standard, backwards. This is probably what held up releasing the album for as long as they were. Okay, there is the one group that couldn't even get that right, but I won't divulge Metallica's name. You know who I'm talking about. That group that had the same beat and lyric pattern for every single song! Even the so-called mellow ones. On the other hand, we must all respect this unnamed group, because when all of these survivors of the eighties backlash went alternative, this group only changed two notes (.66% of a song) unlike every other group attempting to jump on the grunge (now electronica) bandwagons. It doesn't mean much, because they switched the notes around and still went alternative. After all, isn't bad enough that there are already 12.5 BUSHes in every state. 16.7 during Lollapalooza season. Grandma and Ellie May proudly present the Clampett Family Singers. Unfortunately, Jed's gone due to differences with the band. He just didn't see eye to eye with our direction. It not like we shot him... and killed them. Well, the gunshot wasn't what killed him. The knife? It wasn't even mine. In fact, my fingerprints are there because I buttered my toast with it. And what if it was a machete? Lots of people use them.
...and that, my friends, is how the postman died. |
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