{begin} INTEGRAL.FUNCTIONS.017 dd/mm/yy = 10/31/96 {===========================================================================} ~I~ |~\ `|' |~~ /~~ |~| /^\ | \ | | | |_ | _ | / | | | / | | | | | | |~\ |~| | _I_ ' | ' `-- `-' ' | ' | `-- F~~ | | |~\ /~~ `|' ~|~ /~\ |~\ /~~ | | | | | | | / | | | | | F~ | | | | | | \ | | | | `~| | `-' ' | `-- ' -'- `-' ' | --' {===========================================================================} {get FILE_ID.DIZ} Integral Functions is an electronic magazine that encourages both stylistic and topical experimentation in all possible forms of literary expression. Frequency: Contingent (when 20-30k of submissions have been received) FTP: ftp.etext.org /pub/Zines/IntegralFunctions {===========================================================================} {get CONTENTS.LST} 00000001 CRAP -- 250g -- BRIGHT NEW BOX 00000010 Show Don't Tell : A Lesson in Imagine 00000011 A Certain Justice : The Yateman Harold 00000100 Encouraging the Acceleration of Technological Society 00000101 BLIP 00000110 PLAY-META-"POEM' : A Collection of..... 00000111 Mental Ocean 00001000 Booby Balls : Booooiiiing! 00001001 'waht to to do today everyday' 00001010 plek (bELKIN X8 = nORLD) 00001011 Copyright Information {===========================================================================} CRAP -- 250g -- BRIGHT NEW BOX dissolved mineral salts: 296 p.p.m. NEW recyclable 1.5 volts FORMULA tomato 5AA size model 4122-E48 inside onion XX49 days:9311% | mushroom 90 minute audio the FUN side of | LEGEND olive ISBN 0-87406-444-9 <--' 7:52pm 17/20 X = out of service see example below) total THANK YOU! comments? Simple d 20 ANY of the selection / 0 10 \ repairs -- parts -- cleaning Boarding IMPORTANT over 250 which: 6. air filter kinder 1 [ ] lets you 4 wire & cable 4000 POWER try it! for ya 7 904b04801 37 NWD * FREE! push to start HD a comprehensive collection 4% copyright (c) GP480711 NORMAL proudly crafted net wt. 3 months COLDER OFF 10BI formula do not use version 3.0 {===========================================================================} EMOTIONS: SHOW DON'T TELL ( Ms. Sullivan ) When you write a story, it's much more interesting if you present the character's feelings in action, rather than just telling the audience exactly what your character feels or thinks. Telling (DON'T!) A story which only tells is not a story; it's a plot summary. A story which merely tells is boring. Example: When George came home from school that day, he went to see his goldfish. He was really excited to have a pet. He was really proud that his mom was letting him feed the goldfish. He took his responsibility seriously. He got the goldfish food and went to feed the fish. He couldn't see the fish in the bowl. He felt puzzled. He looked hard for the fish, but he couldn't see it. Then he saw it: it was dead on the bottom of the fishbowl. George felt sad. He wished his goldfish hadn't died. He wanted to cry. His heart was breaking. He was hurt. He felt badly. He felt depressed. He was one sad kid. He called for his mom and sat down on the floor. Showing (DO!) Showing fully what a character feels without actually saying the words requires you to pay attention to detail. You must use a lot of descriptive words. You must describe little facial expressions, subtle body postures and signals. This description is what makes your character interesting and what makes your reader care about your character. Example: George raced home from school that day, his little legs working double time. He burt into the kitchen, yelling, "Hi, Mom!" He headed straight for the goldfish food, where it was kept on top of the microwave. He knocked the salt and pepper on to the floor, but he didn't notice. He ran into the living room, right up to the goldfish bowl, and looked down into it, calling softly, "Crispy, Crispy, supper time! Come up for your food." He blinked, and then looked into the bowl from the side. He gasped. "Mom!" he yelled. "Mom, come quick!" He ran into the kitchen and got a spoon. He put the spoon in the bowl and lifted the beautiful little orange body out of the water. He just stood there, staring at it. His eyes were big and wide. He breathed deeply, his shoulders lifting and falling in little spasms. He put the fish back in the water, poking it a little with his finger, encouraging it to swim. When it sank to the bottom, he sank too, to the floor, and sat there, cross-legged, hunched over, his arms fallen weakly to his sides, his chin sunk on his chest, his full, red lower lip pushed out and trembling. {===========================================================================} A CERTAIN JUSTICE - Curtis Yateman All activity - although quite bustling in this area during daylight, seemed to cease as night fell.. Or this particular night, anyways. It was not much of a concern to Harold, who, like most of the other men his age, was only interested in living his everyday working man life, and coming home to a loving bed. The night sparked no curiousity in him, its noises attracted very little of his attention. As he headed down the steps into the subway however, a sound passed his ears that was seldom heard: The closest comparison would be a whispering.. Very light and subtle into his ears, nonsence phrases. Harold faltered his step for a moment- and then moved on. There was no one else waiting at this particular stop, and Harold did not blame them. It had become so late at night that the following morning was approaching. Harold was overworked, tired, and did not care. The train came. Harold picked up his briefcase, which he's left resting beside him, and hobbled over to the now opening glass doors. There was no one inside. Harold sat down, and the doors slid close (as if they were doing so just for HIM; this was an odd feeling) and the train began acceleration again. It was dark and wet here, yet oddly comfortable. Harold's eyes began to close, and he started to drift. The 'whispers' returned, floating past his conciousness, and back again. They seemed to be circling him.. He felt himself breathing them in, they swirled and twisted around each other inside of him. They became.. A PART of him. His eyes snapped open. The train had stopped. Harold shook his head is disarray and picked up the briefcase once more. The doors opened. Harold walked to the threashold, but instead of seeing the area where the train usually left him in, he saw something not totally - but significantly different, like everything had been.. Warped somehow. The sky was a warm gray, the earth a sickly pale green. All that had once been buildings or establishments were now twisted, like their shape, their very fabric of existance had been molded and turned into something abstract and demented. Caught in this sight Harold would not have noticed the giant bat-like creature flying towards him had it not swept down and gashed open his face. Harold let out a howl and fell to the train's floor, clutching his cheek. The briefcase fell and hit the edge of the doorframe, it fell forward into this new world and it's contents (papers and otherwise) scattered about the ground. Harold was more concerned however about his face, and the blood that was streaming from it down through his hands and on his clothes. He was even more concerned than that about the beast, coming in for it's second flurry, headed straight at Harold's throat. " Thatssss enough. " Came a hissing voice. The beast swept upwards, and out of the subway car. Harold looked up, his face stinging. Into the doorway stepped something ten times more terrible looking than the bat, something that Harold's conciousness could never possibly conceive. It's face was that of a human, except stretched out in a way, the skin holding position much wider apart than any human. It's arms - which were long, black and bony - were braced against the doorframe, two clawed fingers hooking into the metal. It grinned at Harold, who was backing against the wall of the train. " Hello thhhhere.. " It hissed at him. " We've been exxxxxpecting you. " Harold tried to form words, but his throat was too dry. 'This is insane', he thought. 'I am dreaming. I am overworked, and I am dr ' Harold could think no more, for he did not realized the speed at which the creature before him moved.. It had struck him unconcious. " reaming. " He muttered. Harold made an attempt to open his eyes, but something had sealed his eyes closed. He felt cold metal holding down his wrists and ankles to a cold surface. There was a faint buzzing sound in the distance, and the shuffling of feet. " Ladies and gentlemen; " a voice announced. " Our savior has arrived. Blessed times are with us again, and the wall shall soon be destroyed. Behold! Our destiny. " Harold felt whatever surface he was on being tilted upward. He heard cheering, and soon saw the source, as he squeezed his blood clotted eyes open. Hundreds.. Thousands.. of these people.. All of them seemed to be a cross between a human and some sort of insect, large crosstitched eyes on some, small red eyes on others. Some had rows of perfectly set pointed teeth, some had fangs, others no teeth at all. They all had one thing in common, however. They were all looking at him - and smiling, grinning, laughing, cheering, clapping, even dancing. The speaker, whom came into view now, was the most horrendous of them all. It seemed to be attached to the ground, for everything on it from the waist down was covered in (or just WAS) a red sticky melting substance. It had over ten arms at each side, which were those of a praying mantis, or very similar. It's face seemed to be inhaling ITSELF with each breath, sucking in it's own features and spitting them back out on itself. Harold finally managed to form words: " What.. What am i doing here? " He gasped. The answer came immediately: " We sent for you, " it whispered. " We are a dying breed, we've spent years attempting to figure out why, and now we know. It is YOUR fault, Harold; the mental incapacity within us was caused by YOU. " " Thats absurd, " he replied, " I've done nothing to you, all I have done is live my life, do my resear- " suddenly he realized. " Your research, " the creature continued for him, " that is exactly it. " The creature held up a few papers which Harold immediately recodnized. They were the ones contained within his briefcase, the millitary permission forms to commence the .. experiments. " " We are the result, Harold, " the creature whispered, seeming to read his mind, " we are the result of all your damned 'important' research, your years of study. But we've found a way to correct that problem. " Harold knew now, what they planned to do. " Why didnt you kill me in the subway then? " The creature smiled. " Because it makes for a WONDERFUL show, my friend. And with that in mind, on with it! " The crowd roared on the last syllable. Harold closed his eyes as the knife fell. FIN {===========================================================================} Encouraging the Acceleration of Technological Society: From Gideon Hartwell - Formation of a loose, non-bureaucratic group, who's task it is to point out to the world or elimate/change any obsolete or corrupt systems or organizations which hinder global/universal human acceleration. - Changes which must be made: - The advertising industry (progaganda) must be totally eliminated from the globe. It serves no purpose. It propogates goods and services that are not needed and may hinder global acceleration by maintaining the "popularity" of obsolete or useless products. A global database of available products and services can be put in place for individuals to search and locate products they *need* -- (a search engine like those used to locate information on the internet can do this). - Elimination of gas propelled transportation -- electrical vehicals are adequate -- there are many forms of energy which can be used to transport humans and products more quickly and efficiently. - Reformation of computer hardware and software -- eliminate marketing and competition from computer industry -> no attention is being paid to *necessity* of computer products -- too much novelty. - Computer industry must integrate with biological research -- esp. research into the workings of the brain. Other Goals: 1. Eliminate negative myths/propaganda about technology regarding automation etc. (however -- pessimism towards new technology is always required -- we must always question and doubt what we are doing, and be able to have multiple perspectives on these complex issues) ex: cloning, etc.. 2. Encourage precision and polysociation through the interaction of different fields of study. 3. Ensure that every human retains freedom and individuality in the future -- esp. when genetic research and implants are introduced into human populations. 4. Ensure that bureaucratic hierarchies are not formed -- dissipation and decentralization of power. {===========================================================================} /\ /\ ____/ B L I P \____ \/ video game video game gunning constantly through your plug it in challenges blowing up or solving or slicing up bonus level with a pac man gobble up them dots glowing sword that flies press fire to continue we lost in a world of play only had fewer jumpkicking combos and those stretchy high score arms and magic button hook up to television combos colours pixels images poorer in sega then but quarters into they would sway with the action and we laughed at them machine boxes quick loss and then more and a guy fighting aliens more and money they must make the fun was there and up up down left it made young boys power and reset buttons an light gray and dark gray transfixation for hours and hours of mindless button hacker pushing for some goal whatever but always winning hand eye coordination expensive games so i wires fizz out pay a lot to fix mechanics liked to rent 3d helmet placing you into it new reality dinosaur tanks and rockets and motorcycle and plane picking you up them and play them for hours and hours and sometimes we would stay up until like dawn almost space ship looked cool doing it winning it and i smelt like crap pea soup a knight that changes colours and can jump really high nintendo we'd go around the maze and shoot each other like a manhunt light gun shooting role your robot with hand pistol upgrade change playing with hp and mana and exp walking around searching for the items and trying to black build and grow kill monsters barrels seek thing and we had that base that we'd protect against the other ones drug for people without strategic play while he talked on the phone forever atari all zooming animals with weapon and face monkeys there was a ninja with joystick and control pad spiked hair and a spinning sword thing repetetive stupid music beep shelf of titles want to favourite cartoon characters try so many maybe buy beep trying to beat time or score evoluation into multimedia supershow playing outside mario super racing computer games are free electric play sort of game over {===========================================================================} PLAY-META-"POEM' úúúúúúúúúúúúúúú anonymous SING ING i like to sing it feels nice my belly tingles i get happy and dizzy but uh oh! did somebody hear me? i think somebody's here! i'd better hide bye ú ú ú KIT tumble furr face sill floor a limbic balance for four stars contacting near-perfect gravity patter as landing calculated precision dance of feed lick a glance so soft for a taste of life set to take know vulnerability circling the way penetrating easy rubbing feed particles fall crying with a draw drilling into arms of warm tearing out attentions so baby puttering for a continuance nothing inside but drive an empty program being soldier fighting the way always without seeing ú ú ú o! glorious tea of light if i were to but drink your contents, the warmth of rainbows would be so exquisite, my guts would be cooked into a solid delicacy, cold liquids would turn to joy, and my organs could dance ecstatically the beams would burst out from my pores, illuminating all that i contact with a new vision, and the world would glow, if you were set free through me yet i can not drink from thee my body is not so wise, as to be able to sip up, electrical happiness ú ú ú OO OO our eyes met across the streamlined concrete divide it was a moment speeded by the blur, of approach reproach direction, yet still cluttered with mutual examination i could see inside of its eyes lenses helpless but to reveal, a cold working apparatus and it bore down on me, intent to smash me eye on a fast pass ú ú ú be my baby and ill be your baby and we can sing nursery rhymes to each other something rocking together in the warmth of i love you if my fancies were ever realized we could be together in some official type way or unoffical id just have to know or if you ever seemed to feel anywhere hear to the same about me as i do you id grab on to you squeezing you arms wrapped up in arms id be so happy id be suicidal the euphoria mania constantly filling my mind clouding it and urging me to self destruction ú ú ú blender blender spins and spins; it turns once and turns again a round around wind you want it smooth, you toss it in do you get dizzy blender? your turn seems never-ender ú ú ú NINTH MOVEMENT you should have seen it (or heard me with your eyes) i strolled musically, and managed it for quite a length indeed! each step made contact, in an evenly spaced beat system i had rhythm and i had style i WAS an embodiment of music as i walked it expressed through me, the instrument my steps were neither too quick, nor too strong they were casual each step seemed to follow an invisible composition it was beautiful; it was instant coreography, yet seemed to have required a lifetime i was quite the sight alright until my song slipped down an unforseen crack in concrete, and chaos ú ú ú beautiful fetus exploding moist world sluggish blob twitching ecstatic growth black water fondling snail head slick movement leaping empty air round life swimming golden flame yucky film encasing morphous embryo psychedelic egg cooking dramatic blur fizzy thing feeding bubbly matter bright fish glowing gooey popcorn ú ú ú sliding backward like a slice of air knock at nothing everywhere into chaotic spirals already going not changing every continuous everything bunches clot and burst apart particles shooting walls ú ú ú a circular head: silver gleam in a fading gradient, running a round groove with a deep abyssal mouth glowing tongue and some sort of crown ridge a tubody: thin red cylinder distorted images running up, angled pyramidal light, bending and bouncing ú ú ú unprotected passages running running release with blades dug into fleshen walls life juices gushing fount agitate all wall sensories extreme yours ú ú ú hAPPY pILLS + aCOUSTIC fOLK-hEAD hAY + sEROTONIN i call this here one 'DISME' ya see, i was sleepy all day, and all night too! so i heads down to my doc, and i says, what can you do? you droop he says, the i can tell, well i gots just the thang, for that thar trouble do you want to feel bad? heck no! just down a few pills, that's the way to go {===========================================================================} * Mental Ocean (Swimming Flutter Currents Everywhere) * Angela Dreamblur's My mother was in the clear, plastic wrapping of two cupcakes (dark brown, with a squiggly white line of icing on top of them). I angrily spewed a whole barrage of insulting names at her. She was responsible for what she was; she choose to be, so I was not at fault for what I was doing. I am on the front lawn of my school. I am watching a far away group of familiar people; there is a crane and a wide dirt hole near them. One of them swings a punch in the air, and it spins him around. I am looking through the lense of a video camera at another group. A fellow from another class walks in with odd paint all over his face. He asks the teacher about doing a project in our class; she says that he need only fill out the proper forms (which I hadn't known existed). Then he said, "you know what I just found out? I can court everything I own for my big, fat, log." The camera starts shaking madly, the picture becomes black and white, and 'industrial' music begins to play--at first it is made by someone's mouth, but then it morphs into a familiar tune. There was a curse placed on a fetus, which caused it to die while still in the womb. I see myself from outside of me, pouring sugar and spice into a woman's vagina to produce a new one. She lays naked and unmoving as I do it. There were people around me. Bruce Lee ran from person to person attacking them. They said that I had no chance of defeating him in a battle. I felt afraid. He was very small, but that gave him the advantage of hitting you in your lower area that was more difficult to protect, and you had less area on him to strike at (just like that video game). He slid down a hill, while kicking in the air so fast that his feet were a blur; during this he let out a constant japanese/Karate cry and his face looked furious. I am seated at a round table in a restaurant or cafe. A woman in her 30s or 40s, wearing dark pink clothing and a large hairstyle (1950s-y: it all goes in a downwards direction, but curls up at the bottoms) is serving me a cup with glowing contents. She was a mysterious person who wrote literature which people felt made the world "happy." I was visiting her to make inquiries about something; this was a surprise to her. An old man and I are sweeping a floor; it is littered with all kinds of rubbish bits. Two men walk by, one of them tells us, "if you don't leave in 10 minutes, you'll be locked in." I didn't leave. He made a comment about locking us in. I mockingly repeated what he had originally said, and he walked off shamefully. When I do leave, I pass users at computer terminals, most of which are very young (grade 9ish). I have to walk through a series of rooms, seperated by glass walls. I consider returning here at a later time to make us of the equipment, seeing as it's so close to home. I try to talk to a girl that is wearing headphones. I repeatedly ask her something, but she doesn't hear me. When I am done speaking, she takes them off. I walk away from her, heading for the exit. It's crowded along the way with people hanging out of their chairs into the aisle. When I have the final elevator in sight, I have to step over a fuzz and metal chair; it has a word written on the top of it, which my foot smears off. I notice an older woman's head far off and wonder whether she saw me do that. {===========================================================================} YYEAH: Booby Balls I want a pair of breasts. Not ones which were attach to me or someone else; no, breasts that are independant of a human body. Just two free-floating (or rolling or bouncing) boobies: two blooby spheres. I suppose they'd be almost regular round balls, but with some extras: nipples, warmth, and possibly some hair-fuzz, as well as milk, or an area for liquids. They would feel devine if you were to squeeze them ("just right"). Everyone would want them. They would make great pillows. They could be actual living organisms. You would have to feed them, and they would make their own--and your own--milk. Booby Balls could become household pets, with names, and the move about of their own will. Breasts with a survival drive. "Awww... aren't they cute boobies? What did you name them?" The Booby Balls would be available in all sizes and skin shades; their degree of firmness and hairiness would also be optional; plus, you could select the size, shape, and shade of the nipples! They would likely be damn expensive, especially if they were to be realistic simulations, but worth it all. And so long as they were attached by some means, they would be excellent artifical chest-breasts. All the gals would be envious. {===========================================================================} waht to do today everyday sitting sprawled gazing into direction for pleasure go nowhere a safe place that feeds and breaths and is enough just here on thefreedom days fear of the cold places with the questioning faces and the everyone alll huddled in their mutual desires to touch rub minds all intertwined helpless dumb activity for close sake they thinkt hey no so righteous best thing me just emptily sucking up some peace onl y lonely only gray on some days when it all breaks down nothing around like to soak on msics feels beuaty oh bliss not alone with all the lines to the world feeding technic link need them too just another another boexes everywhere separate year 2000 more for everyone all hidden away and i wont be shamed by mystical pressures but wont be concernedit's soft to curl in a blanketed protection place like this where i can roll and lauhg free mostly but i dont just keep the syustems going because i have them and they want to run round and round gdon't know where to really everyday what to do {===========================================================================} ... bELKIN X 8 = nORLD ... [ /\ ] [ ] [ ] WEG NORLBE GA [ ] [ PLED ] [ /||\ ] - - P E n n E R - - ... GENESIS ... {===========================================================================} {get COPYRITE.NFO} Each work within this volume is copyright 1996, by its respective author. This file may be reproduced and distributed in its current form or as a printed document. {===========================================================================} INTEGRAL.FUNCTIONS.017 dd/mm/yy = 10/31/96 {end}