Second things last, and here it goes. We have a new section open (again) at the site. It's our movie review page. I won't waste time, since we are giving you guys a not so early peak at the most recent one (The Avengers). Just check out the article and you'll get all the info you'll need.

pg. 178
The Pissing Grounds
by: Paul B. Whitley

Not too long ago, my mom flipped out because my brother and I dipped out to a place and she had absolutely no idea where we were. Upon yelling about it to a point where no one really cared, she practiced the last shred of physically visible power, the remote to the alarm system that I have gone on record as calling it a waste of money. Anyways, she turned it on like it meant something. I wanted to break down in cry because I could just tell that it made her feel like she had just laid down some serious punishment.

My brother is kind of different in that he has several sources of power and all of them lessen his stature in my eyes. The first method is the tv remote. If I'm pissing him off, the channel changes. For those of you who live in the household with "real" men, you can relate. For those of you who can't, imagine hanging out in the park with the kid who wants to play football but won't let you touch it. The sad part is that he will take the remote from anybody in hopes that he exert some power in any given situation. Granted, I am guilty of the remote fetish, but I don't really give a damn about what's on, the remote is just something to toss around. I just grab it to twirl around. My brother grabs the remote to feel like a man.

As for me, the only real power that I feel that I have is this damn computer I'm using. Nobody knows me in face, story, or deed, so I can be anybody and anonymity is the greatest power of all kinds. Not only that, but this computer has exalted me to a position of editor for an ezine and I can send shitty decrees of deadlines and easily come off sounding like an asshole. Only in amerika, the land of the power depraved.

pg. 42
What If... There Was A Zine To Review
by: antihero

examining the cover further (no, i haven't opened it up yet), i find what is apparently the motto: "Cogitationes Altae Sine Soleis Aut Togis" which, after several minutes of wracking my brain to dredge up my latin classes, i realize means "Deep Thought Without Sandals Or Togas.'" then i read the rest of the cover, and notice a subtle translation of the aforementioned motto. well, effort counts, right?

then comes the big moment. i open the magazine. and i'm greeted with the table of contents, which i always excites me, and also a list of "Typical Modern Philosopher Brain Noshings" such as "What happens if this is all just one big video game, and God runs out of quarters?" and "If this is the computer age, how come shoe stores still have only that medieval looking device to measure my foot?" (which, by the way, is called the Brannock Device). these are the questions that make you think (or, for some of our less adept viewers, fall asleep). after pondering these questions, i decided to start actually reading the magazine.

the first article is titled "What If... God Gets Frustrated and Decides To Destroy the Universe?" i read it, and found it to be well-written, and even well-thought out. it didn't meander aimlessly, boring me to death, and neither was it too short, without getting any kind of point across. unlike many of the things i read in magazines, i didn't feel like part of my life was completely wasted while reading the article.

this is actually a fairly good description of the kind of thing that fills this magazine, including "What If... We Ran Hollywood?" and "How to Survive a Cyber Breakup" which will certainly be helpful to many people who have pathetically attempted to find their true love online, instead only to find a bunch of other guys with beards pretending to be women. thought provoking stuff. so, all in all, i would have to recommend this one. while none of the articles are quite what we have here at SDM, none of them would be that out of place in our not-quite-hallowed pages. you can stop in at their homepage to see what's up, and you'll find instructions for subscribing. and while their subscription rates are a bit steeper than newsweek, or time, (three issues for 12$ or 6 issues for 20$), it's ahead of either of those in my "worth reading" list.

pg. 1812
Brossart Wit and Wisdom.
by: The Bathroom Bandit, an outside agitator at a major university in the Midwest."

"Brossart Wit & Wisdom" has dealt extensively with Fifty Fiver, king of ABC gum and harassing sociopath who attended Brossart. I began calling him Fifty Fiver because he tore a picture that looked like it was taken around 1955 out of a magazine and claimed it was of his girlfriend (though he accused ME of doing the exact same thing).

Fifty Fiver was an overprivileged young man who was allowed to get his driver's license when he was 14. He always disrupted class by throwing books, spitting, and passing gas.

One day in study skills class, a student raised her hand, pointed at Fifty Fiver, and said, "He's back here fartin' or whatever."

The teacher gave the whole class a lecture about gross bodily noises. "I've never had to discuss this in the 5 years I've been teaching here," she remarked.

The priest who taught "church history" must have really meant it when he said, "The attitude really stinks in here."

*18* BOOKS AND NEWSPAPERS--TOGETHER AT LAST!

November 11, 1988: "Whoever's putting books and newspapers in the toilets better stop. We had a flood on Monday."

Like anybody's going to touch a copy of "Red Badge Of Courage" soaked in urine?

*19* ASH WEDNESDAY GETS REDUCED TO ASHES

A riot broke out during the Ash Wednesday mass on February 28, 1990. Two members of the senior class got into a fight over a seat and yelled profanities at each other (right in front of the bishop). The principal became angry and ordered the two students to "get the hell out!"

Most people ignored the incident and continued with their usual routine. In typing class, a student asked the teacher if we were allowed to chew gum. The reply: "Nooooo! No ABC gum either." ("ABC" stands for "already been chewed".)

And later, the biology teacher warned that some students were doomed to fail the whole course and implied that a big red "F" had already been inscribed on their final report cards. He said, "For some people, it doesn't matter. The coffin is already on its way and you butt's gonna be inside!"

*20* THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST

Sister Mary Donkeyface's English class often included a vocabulary quiz (which most people failed). After one test, I had to ask her to repeat question 5 because I missed it the first time. "Would you repeat number 5?" I said.

Donkeyface replied, "Number 5: 5-5-5. You got your favorite number mentioned, so are you satisfied?"

Quite frankly, no.

*21* QUASI-HUMAN STUDENTS

"Can't you act quasi-human for a change?" the priest who taught "prayer and sacraments" class angrily asked when a student sneezed in my direction without covering his mouth.

But it is a relevant question: Can they act quasi-human? Or even quasi-animal?

pg. ---
The Obligatory Poetry Corner

"So Martha did you like watch Melrose last night?"
"Oh yeah, Chris, and oh my god you know I can’t believe that Amanda did..."
"Yeah it's a damn shame, so how you been doing?"
"Oh you know same old, same old, I’m just, you know..."

MIllI0ns
             b_w
                    d_wn
Several c_llapse
                         Y0U d_n’t fall.
When _they say "thanks"
                        IT’S all 1&1 Y0U.
U B da mAn
U B da 1
It’s all ab0Ut Y0U
       all          you
       all          YOU
       ALL      YOU
Remember Y0Urself
Remember pr0Udly
L__k Up 1&1 Y0Urself
L__k Up ^hIghly
A pat _n Y0Ur back
    d_n’t hUrt Y0Ur sh0Ulder

Excuses are all that an addict has to live by. I don't really have any, but if I had to choose it would be the trauma of a childhood I couldn't prevent mixed with the constant abandonment given to me by the "friends" who only seem to make themselves known when I don't need them. These so called friends really don't mean shit to me because everyone who says "I love you" is only saying it to cover up the sound of their snickers. More than anything, I would like to make an excuse for that last statement. That excuse would be the paranoia of an addict that I always see on those lame ass rock star biographies. If that was the case, then such sentiment would only be bullshit to me, but the more I try to convince myself that I do have friends, the more it seems that I was right all along. The only people in my life are only there for the time being and when that time begins to take its toll, it's time for the person to be on his way.

It's a pyramid, really. The closer a person seems to me, the more likely they are to leave me in that proverbial alley. The further on down the pyramid, the more easy it was for me to look at that person without some sort of ulterior paranoia. Once again, I think that this can be blamed entirely on me. A person really can't get all that close when you lock yourself away in a room or clam up and refuse to speak. Either that, or you just bitch on and on and on about the bullshit in your life. Doing that will naturally push a person away, no matter how close you are. I suppose that just the natural order of things in my life. Everyone leaves, and I'm left there holding the bag.

My father started the pattern and from then on, it seems like every person I become attached to follows his lead. If I wanted to bum you out, I could provide some sort of a list, but it wouldn't do any good, now would it? All I know is that there isn't a single person out there who knows my secrets who is still near me today. Who's fault is it? I never did anything to push them away. I shoot my shit and wait for questions. The questions come, the answers follow and two weeks later, I'm waiting to leach off another soul.

What does this have to do with drugs? Sometimes, I drugs are my excuse. Since

most people don't wish to be associated with an addict of any type they walk off. This saves me two things: 1. I don't have to divulge myself. I just hate to tell somebody something and have them either forget or walk off. or 2. I speed up the inevitable. They are going to leave eventually, so why don't I just save time on both ends, as well as a lot of heartache.

Unfortunately, there are people out there who like to see past the negative and get inside. The addiction is no problem for them so they are very willing to stand by my side and just keep doing the standard routine. When I said, constant abandonment, I said it without exception. Although, I suppose in this case it's a bit mutual. I fade away and they don't attempt to bring me back. One such person tried one time, but speak no longer. She even flipped out because of my repeated "fading." The climax of this relationship (not romantic, mind you) was her going on a tirade about this behavior of mine. I take full blame for putting people in such positions, but I see it like this: they are destined to leave and me bombarding them with my ever deepening thoughts of suicide only makes it easier for them to send off a subtle "fuck you."

Looking back over all of this shit, I have to say I regret all of the decisions in my life. There has been money lost, friendships broken, mentalities sizzled, and suicidal questions left unanswered. If I had it all to do over again, either I wouldn't be here, or I'd be a happy reader of sdm laughing my ass off at the things these guys say. Instead, I'm living with my mistakes and wondering why things end up like they do.

Saving the world in style. Huh? Why does saving the world have to be done in style? This has got to be one of the dumbest movies that has come out lately. First of all you this chick, Uma Thrurman, running around in skin-tight leather trying to ..uh..save the world? It's a miracle the little bimbo can walk in that thing! Im sure the guys will love it though. And Ralph Fiennes His accent had me fooled thinking he was a legitimate actor. I realize now I was duped. And do I really need to mention Sean Connery is a moron for doing this movie??

The whole plot? Connery as some evil guy trying to rule the world by controlling the weather. Huh?? What the... Yeah this is a movie im dying to see… some freak with a bagpipe being chased by a fashion plate and her "intellectual" sidekick. Excuse me while I throw up. Truly this movie looks like it will suck. And suck hard. Although some people might like that kinda thing...

~~Ratings~~
Two middle fingers

Which brings me to my point. My greatest error in the world of race and music is because of DC Talk. The group consists of two white guys and a black guy. Keep in mind, that before these guys were a crossover sensation, they were a christian rap group and not touching all ends of the spectrum musically. Their first album is one of the best rap albums ever made. Now they're into grunge and I haven't delved in lately. Believe it or not, I don't patron the christian music scene, so it came as a surprise to me when I was watching Arsenio Hall one night and low and behold the guy who I thought to be the rapper (black) was belting out high notes and all of that other crap while one of the white guys was rapping (I forget the other one's purpose). I stood corrected.

Another mistake many have made is that of Color Me Badd. Once upon a time, these guys had a hit and because it was 4 white guys and a black guy (not only that, but I still don't remember the odd man out ever singing) many felt that it was a Milli Vanilli coup. Seeing these guys live will change your minds. They can sing (most) and they are white and they have soul. Ladies and gents, it is truly frightening.