Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine Volume III, Issue 10, AD MCMXCVIII Monday, May 26, 1998 ISSN 1482-0471 ------------------------------------------- Why don't you just go down to Staples. Buy a camera on credit or with money, whatever you have. Use it for 13 days, bring it back and say it didn't work out for you. Then get another one. And keep doing it. Its a no questions asked policy, you could probably do it three or four times before they start getting suspicious. -- Morbus, http://www.disobey.com ------------------------------------------- "I think you should know I worry a lot. Like the Nobel sperm bank. Something bothers me about the world's greatest geniuses sitting around reading pornography and jerking off." - Jane Wagner ------------------------------------------- 1. Editorial 2. How to get rid of a body 3. The Gospel According to Some Guy I Met on the Bus 4. Emilio Juarez Dies ------------------------------------------- This week's Golden Testicle award: How to seriously fuck up your kids about Dinosaurs and God http://www.parentcompany.com/great_dinosaur_mistake/tgdmintr.htm ------------------------------------------- 1. Editorial by Leandro WELCOME TO ISSUE 10 of Capital of Nasty. But before I go any further: Suzanne Schumacher writes: > vUNSUBSCRIBE ME!! Do it manually, footfully, any way you want, just > do it DAMN IT! It's become the most fucking, boring waste of time > imagineable! And by the way, Who the hell gives the least amount > of fuck about Fabrizio, Maurizio, or > how-the-hell-ever-he-called-himself on the Titanic, nobody! That's > why he was only there for five minutes! Sometimes words are just not enough, but... fuck off anyway. Ahhh. That felt good. With that out of the way, I have an important notice to make our readership aware. A while back we published a rewritten script of the Titanic. Well, the article was copyrighted and by another author, rather than the one we published. "Clash of the Titanic" was printed in Eric's weekly humor column of BYU's Daily Universe newspaper on February 9th this year, and has been copied and altered on the Internet since, and a lot of people have used the chance to put their name on it. In case you did not know, doing such a thing is very illegal. Fortunately after explaining to Eric what had happened, he granted us the rights to continue displaying the story on the web site (there have of course been changes to reflect the original version). Eric can be reached by email at ericdsnider@byu.edu or you can visit the "Clash of the Titanic" web site at http://www.burgoyne.com/pages/edsnider/writings/du26titanic.html. ICQ - FOR THOSE of you that use ICQ, you will probably be shocked to learn that it has been bought by AOL for a mere $300 million dollars (part cash, part AOL stock). AOL originally tried to compete with ICQ with their Netscape/AOL combined messenger, which really sucked and offered nothing compared to what ICQ offers us today. ICQ has over 14 million users worldwide, the Mirabilis web-page marking as fourth as most visited page through the entire world. What does AOL plan to do now? Send us AOL each time we start the program up? I certainly hope not. The best site to visit for information and to vote against the buyout is probably this one: http://members.xoom.com/absolutez/ And yes, I am on ICQ: 889318. THE LAST DINOSAUR - The numbers in victims that have read the whole article keep rising. Paul, Karma (who likes our stuff better than what he has to read in English literature class), REVSCRJ and lastly an Engineer named Joe Wilger have all written to inform us that they too went through the story and suffered minimal trauma. Frankly, I found it a better read than, say, Joseph Konrad's "Heart of Darkness"... oh the horror, the horror... And lastly, special thanks to Chuck Collins who made us notice that our clocks were one year behind. Just one last request for those that actually managed to read this far: WHAT would YOU like to see in CoN? Anything particular we should write about or be nasty about? Send in your requests by replying to this issue and we will do our best to sneer at you.. err I mean, see what we can do. Be good. ------------------------------------------- I HAVE DIRECT PROOF OF MICROSOFT ANTI-COMPETITIVE PRACTICES! CALL THE US JUSTICE DEPARTMENT! "A young Editor find proof of the ultimate cover-up. A grizzled alcoholic lawyer has to protect him from the evil Microsoft corporation. Bill Gates hires death squads!" --From "This Program Has Performed an Illegal Operation and Will Be Shut Down." The New John Grisham novel ------------------------------------------- 2. How to get rid of a body By Leandro It happens, once in a while, that you end up with a fresh dead body. Or corpse to be more precise. And you'll notice that the very first question that always comes mind is not "who is this guy?" or "how did he die?" but more likely "how do I get rid of it?" At first, it was not an easy task; I would chainsaw the body, and scatter the pieces around, use cement and ditch it in the lake, hoping the fishies would like the free snack. I have even tried acid, but it's bloody messy and the washroom never looks the same. And the myth that a starved dog will eat a corpse? Not true. Plenty of leftovers, not including the bones. Yup, I've tried all the various brute force techniques, and I can assure you, none work too well. Even stashing the body in the trunk of my car, driving several hours up North and ditch the body in a bush in the forest. And that's the problem: brute force attack in getting rid of a body is exactly the wrong way of doing things. Fortunately through years of experience, I have found several methods to easily dispose of a body before it starts to smell and it upsets the local authorities. First of all there are a few things you have to take in consideration when getting rid of a body: you don't want to attract scavengers. While this might seem as a good thing, since they quickly chew up the fleshy part of the body, it attracts too much attention. Where did that fox get that arm? I'm sure you wouldn't let that go by. You don't want the body to be found for a long time. If the body is not found, well, then maybe, just maybe, the person is not really dead, but just disappeared. Lastly, you don't want any connection between you and the corpse. In my case, I have learned to make best use of the resources I have around me. Take for example No Frills, a convenient grocery store where many of my connections are located. Need drugs? Stolen U.S. Army computer equipment? Underground Israeli Army surplus? Cigarettes? You can get it all here if you have the right connections and you know what department to go to. There is also this great sense of brotherhood among the clerks and they will gladly help a fellow brother in need of help. Many times I have found myself parking in the back, take out a big black garbage back with the boys. We'd take the body down to the "Grinder". The meat guy loves me when I drop by with one of my jobs, because he can lower the prices of his ground beef by having a 50/50 mixture of ground human meat and ground beef, since human, he once told me, "tastes more like chicken". This method has worked many times. It has the downside of requiring so much work, especially in the preparation of the meat to ensure that no clothes or jewels or other recognizable items are found by the customers. Of course there is a quick and easy way these days: the compactor. It only works well in the summer unfortunately. First of all the body must be put in several black plastic bags to ensure that they will not break and reveal that the garbage is indeed a person. During the summer, a compactor usually starts to smell real bad, partly due because of the rotten meat and vegetables thrown in there, with the occasional chemical bottle, and part because... well, who knows who's been throwing what in your local grocery store's compactor eh? Alas, not everyone has access to these delightful conveniences. Of course, you could try the daring way. Pack the body in a hefty bag and leave it for the garbage men to pick up. If you do try this, don't leave it in front of your house. Many good men I knew got caught by the authorities for doing a stupid mistake like that. A friend of mine told me of a neat trick, which is to leave the body in an hospital. The hard part is not bringing it down to the morgue. You see, if you are wearing the right clothing, with the hint of a nametag or some sort of fake ID, and you act as if you were supposed to be there, people will leave you alone. So, the real challenge, and too risky if you ask me, is bringing the body from the car, to the hospital entrance. Unless you have the hospital worked out well (other entrances, someone from the inside that you can trust), I would highly avoid this. One of my friends has an easy way to get rid of his bodies. He dresses them in sky-diving gear, puts a parachute on their back and pushes them off. Many of those "accidents" you hear on the radio? Fear not, the victim was already dead. There is a saying that "two is company, three is a crowd". Many of my suggestions are unfortunately involving quite a crowd. You need someone there to help you out. Not all of us are lucky to have people that are willing to take such a big risk to help you rid of a body. So, here are a few suggestions for those that need to or prefer, working solo. Niagara Falls: avoid it like the pest. Even at 4 o'clock in the morning, there is always someone there. And even if you do throw the body over with a pair of cement slippers, eventually the strength of the current will snap the body at the knees and guess who'll flow back up? So avoid this method with the passion. It's the first place the coppers look anyway. Take the body, place it on the rail tracks of a well traveled line. Near a bend if possible. This will avoid the body from being spotted virtually immediately and the chance that a slow moving freight train could stop in time. You want momentum to be your friend. Of course, you have to make it look like an accident. Take out a freshly bought bottle of some strong alcohol, pour some on the body, and put the bottle next to the body, but far enough so it won't break. People will think the obvious, while the body will be nicely mauled making it unrecognizable for a while. If you don't need time, but just want to get rid of the body quickly and in a clean way, steal a wheelchair. The person that was on it will most likely not chase after you. After that, go see a movie. With the body. On the wheelchair. As you enter, talk to the body on how good the movie will be. Buy the tickets and wheel the body to see Titanic (the movie is three hours and 15 minutes long, giving you almost 4 hours to play with to create an alibi). When the movie starts and the lights are dimming, tell the body you are going to get some popcorn and stuff. Instead, leave. There are of course many other ways of solving problems of this kind. It all depends by your imagination and resources and how good your alibi is. Remember though, you should try to avoid at all costs to end up with the terrible task of getting rid of a body. If your job is done well from the beginning, all you have to do, is go and collect the other half of the cheque. ------------------------------------------- 3. The Gospel According to Some Guy I Met on the Bus By Jason MacIsaac There's a great scene in Pulp Fiction (one of many), where Vincent Vega is trying to convince Jules Winnfield that an incident that they survived earlier in the day was not divine intervention--not a miracle. Vincent defines a miracle as when "God makes the impossible possible" and says more or less that this particular case doesn't count as impossible. On the surface, he's right. If the history of firearms has taught us anything, the results of firing a gun at someone's head aren't nearly as predictable as you might think. There are cases of soldiers charging nest full of blazing machine guns and not only living to brag about it, but also walking away without a scratch. Jules objects to this definition, saying that the actual possibility or impossibility of what happens is immaterial. What does matter is that Jules "felt the touch of God. God got involved." He's absolutely right, and I have a similar story. On my last year of high school, I skipped an assembly to go do some banking. For one reason or another that I can't remember, I actually wanted to go back after skipping. To do so, I went off the beaten path and cut through an uncleared field. If you grew up in the suburbs, you've seen a million of them. They're fields that haven't been built on yet, but will one day. The grass is overgrown and vegetation is at least up to your knees. There's usually some really ugly trees here and there, and discarded furniture and auto parts. As I walked through this field, I stumbled on a mother cat and her newborn kitten. The kitten was so young it could hardly stand. It was, as most babies are, completely adorable. I didn't touch it...the mother had already retreated to a safe distance. I looked at the kitten for a moment. Then I slowly went around the little hideaway the mother cat had made under a discarded sofa and car door. Later, I went back to make sure the mother hadn't abandoned the kitten. Fortunately, she hadn't. What happened to me was not impossible. Unlikely, sure, but stranger things happen all the time and I don't give them a second thought. But this was different. Because I felt something. For a brief second, it was if something said to me "Come this way. I want to show you something. Look. Don't touch, just watch. And see." For one instance, I was looking at a bigger picture. Something larger and greater than myself. While I was skipping high school no less. Which, incidentally, was a Roman Catholic school. Now, admittedly the experience of having a gun fired at you and seeing a kitten are not quite the same thing, but once again, it doesn't matter. I felt the touch. That few seconds looking at a newborn cat taught me more about religion than all my years in the Peel Roman Catholic School system. To recap, I had skipped school, the thing I was supposed to be at may even have been some kind of mass. I had a religious experience anyway. That day I was convinced that there is a kind of superior intelligence, a guiding force in the universe, and it thinks a little like me. For anyone who knows me, there's a sobering thought. Quite terrifying actually. But this isn't some huge ego trip for me, or a sales pitch for my groovy new religion. I would urge you to treat this whole thing with skepticism. Skepticism is great, it saves lives. This incident sums up all my religious beliefs. For everyone else, it is meaningless and that's okay. For me, religion really is a personal thing, which is why I treat other people who try to sell their religion to me suspiciously. I, like several other people I know, actually look forward to answering my door and finding Jehovah's Witnesses smiling prozac-like at me. I'm part of a club of Recreational Jehovah's Witnesses Baiters, actually. One of my fellow members is a Roman Catholic priest. He likes to quiz them on their Bible knowledge. Now, the Bible has been revised more times than Webster's Dictionary. You don't study the Bible, you study versions of it. The King James. The Guttenberg. Some of them differ subtly, others drastically. Some contradict each other entirely. The priest I knew liked to get them wound up explaining contradictions. Me, I don't know that much about Bible history, so I just like to fuck with their heads. When asked if I was Protestant or Roman Catholic, I once told a "Joho" I was Buddhist. That really messed her up. She had to look me up in her Jehovah's Witnesses Giant Fun Colouring and Activity Book. I scratched my upper lip to hide my smirk as she read out "Buddhism is a monotheistic Eastern religion started by Siddartha Guatama, also known as the Buddha, or 'enlightened one'. There are three main kinds of Buddhism." As she began to ask me which kind I was, I struggled to remember what I had learned in World Religions. "There's Zen, the trendy one," I thought, "Theravadan, a more traditional and fundamentalist religion (fundamental as Buddhism goes, anyway), and one that begins with M, which is more moderate and is probably the one I'd be if I was Buddhist." I mumbled an M world. She then read to the end of her little entry, which said that overall Buddhists have a positive view of the future. She asked me if I had a positive view of the future. I had just finished reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, but before I could get very far into English Student mode with a literary comparison of that and 1984 by George Orwell, I finally snapped her patience (no mean feat), and she politely excused herself. I could say that I have no problem with religions of any kind as most people do, but that would be a lie. I have a real problem with some of them. I hold the ones that want to sacrifice me to some god in a really dim view. I don't care really what other people believe--it's their business and I'm happy to let the mind it alone. It's the ones that want to inflict their religion on other people that piss me off. And I'm not talking about the obvious stuff, like forcible conversion or holy wars. I'm talking about people who talk about it without being asked. Endlessly. Or go door to door trying to convert people. "Convert" is actually the wrong word. It's recruiting. I suppose you could say I'm guilty of the same behavior by writing about this, but I urge you to stop reading if you don't want to hear this. I'm also not trying to convert people. In fact, what I'm trying to say that my religion is no good for you, and if you see it, run in the other direction. You know the recruiting religions. Jehovah's Witnesses. B'hais (is that how you spell it?). Scientology. Scientology is a particularly sore spot for me, since they not only actively recruit, they selectively recruit. They go after people with prestige and money. By the way, would you really want to join a religion that saved Kirstie Alley's life...twice? Gee, and thanks to Scientology, we now have great films like Look Who's Talking and For Rich or For Poorer. And let us not forget the amazing TV show Victoria's Secret. Gee, thanks Scientology. Thank you so fucking much. Once I was on the bus to work, and I bumped into a guy named George. George worked not far from me, and I noticed him a few times in the ride. George decided to introduce himself to me. God, I hate friendly people. I like the surly ones. More character. And, they don't ask you what George asked me...I'll get to that in a minute. After some small chit chat about what we did for a living, George asked me if I was a spiritual person. Woo hoo, here we go. "In my own way," I told him. I hoped he would get the hint. Of course, he didn't. George invited me to his church. Just to see it, of course. No pressure. I told George I wasn't interested. George must have sensed that he had overstepped his bounds (we'd known each other a total of five minutes), and said that when he was growing up his parents tried to shove religion down his throat and he resented it. I guess he was trying to imply that he wasn't trying to shove religion down my throat. Meanwhile, I was envisioning Georgy getting religion shoved into another bodily orifice all together. It's suspicious. Partly I think of that old Woody Allen bit about not wanting to join a club that would have me for a member. The Roman Catholic Church didn't recruit me. I was born into it. People like to complain that you don't really get a say in what religion you grow up with, but the RC church didn't get much of say in how its new member turned out, either. They baptized me and let me take Communion, and all along, they had no idea what they were getting into until it was far too late. Now, these turkeys, they're actively head-hunting me. That's a dead giveaway. Any religion that would take me as a member has to be up to no good. Part of being in this religion is to recruit your friends (actually, a good way to lose your friends) and anyone else you can get a hold of. That's not right. George Orwell once wrote this great essay on Patriotism versus Nationalism. Orwell defined patriotism as a love for one's own country or culture, but a comfortable love. An Orwell patriot sees no need to go around forcing his or her way of life on someone else and are not threatened by other approaches to life. The door is always open to those who want to participate or join, but no-one is over pushed through. Nationalists, on the other hand, see their group only in terms of conflict, always against one or more conflicting forces. Nationalists always seek to convert someone to their side, insult the competition, bolster their own victories, in a never-ending struggle. Most Nationalists don't get the chance to force their opponents into anything, but there's nothing a nationalist likes better than seeing an opponent humiliated and beaten. It's almost like an insecurity. The religion is failing because its numbers are down. Or that Protestants are up two point on the Exchange and we're down three. Never mind the comfort or meaning it gives to its members' lives. It can have a few ironic twists though. I was told of one incident from a friend out in Saskatoon about a room full of B'hais and Jehovah's Witnesses trying to recruit each other. Hopefully, each found the other to be full of self-righteous, brainwashed bores and were glad they weren't like that. This article may have had a point at some time, but now that we're near the end, I seem to have forgotten it. That's all for the best really. People who make points about religions start inquests and holy wars. And the only thing worse than war is people singing "Give Peace a Chance." I wouldn't want to be responsible for that. There's always some idiot in every crowd who completely misinterprets what someone says, and thinks I'm trying to take people away from other religions to join my own. Nah. I'd make a lousy Pope/Messiah/Avatar/Whatever. I do make a mean batch of fajitas, though. ------------------------------------------- 4. Emilio Juarez Dies By Christopher Stolle (INDIANA POET) left front row - dense country breeze gently rains down. inadequate crowd - naked in tears for showing up empty-handed. someone speaks - i have never met him, but he knows names, places, accomplishments. stone-packed field - i see two for my parents, and my sister, fragile, drops a tulip between them. civilian tradition - no honorable flag, no guns, no bugle; generic newspaper ashes. it's unbelievable to think poets die like everyone else. ------------------------------------------- CoN would not be possible without the great help of Scriba Org. extension 438 "the extension that cares" Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine "media you can abuse" In memory of Father Ross "Padre" Legere Published every second Monday (or when we get around it) Disclaimer: unintentionally offensive Comments, queries and submissions are welcome http://www.capnasty.org ISSN 1482-0471 A bi-weekly electronic journal. Subscriptions available at no cost electronically. Available on Usenet newsgroups alt.zines and alt.ezines. This mailing is sent exclusively to those poor souls who chose to subscribe to the Capital of Nasty mailing list. Spread the word! If you have friends who would like to receive CoN, ask them to send email to join@capnasty.org. If you'd like to unsubscribe because such email aggravates your tolerance toward men or funky religions, simply send an empty message to leave@capnasty.org. Brought to you by C.C.C.P. (Collective Communist Computing Proletariat) Leandro Asnaghi-Nicastro Colin Barrett ZimID 708EC8D1 1994/09/14 EC B0 97 59 1D FE 7C 32 7E 04 2C 66 47 41 FB 7D