Issue 0001: "A static free start." The Internet Sux ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi mogel. Im going to start a new zine. Its got a really krad name. Well not really. But I have some great ideas. Well not really. But it will get you girls. Well only if they are drunk and ugly. But I think you will like it. Maybe. I call it, "The Internet Sux". ---------------------------------------------------------------------- ... and so it began ... After finding myself treading water in the sea of life I decided it was time to make a serious change in my future. That change of course would come in something so amazingly new and creative that it would be heralded for ages. Well that change has come and gone and now I find myself left with more of the same. Which when you think about it isn't so bad... is it not all more of the same? Just another day? Just another Meal? Just another Web Page? Just another Date Rape? Just... I think you understand where I am coming from. If you don't then please get the help you need with ending your existence. Not that I have any anger in me or anything but blame flows from my fingers like rhetoric flows from our wondrous countries political leaders. Oh yeah did I mention I was a sell out? --------------------------------------------------------------------- "Sunny Days/Loving Ways" There are but two known loves in the universe. The joy of being loved and the joy of giving love. Sure those were pretty weak definitions. She knew that, but her faith in them went untested. Until today. Until this very moment she had always believed in the truth of love, the power, the warmth. Today was a cold day. But then again it wasn't. Much like any other day Sue Ellen had clamored out of bed as the alarm chimed the start of a new day. Stumbling into the shower she had nary a clue that her world would suddenly come crashing down. Slipping into her favorite sun dress she made her way down to the corner to wait for the bus. Standing there. Her back against the Wall. She noticed him. He, him, had come strolling up from 3rd Street. He, him, had never stood at this particular bus stop. She was sure of that. Dressed in a sweater and a nice pair of slacks she liked everything about him that she could see. He turned. She moved her eye down. Back up. They met. They held. He smiled. For a brief second they stood locked in an eternal bliss. The sun was brighter, the cares washed away. Time. Oceans of tranquility. The bus. The arrival of the bus broke their lock on each other's eyes. She plotted sitting next to him on the bus. Her day had arrived. They boarded and with a skillful twist she managed to seat herself next to him. She turned and smiled. He smiled back. They rode in silence until the next stop. Where he rose. Starting to yell at the top of his lungs he preached, "I love you all but for your sins you must die." With that he tore his coat open exposing the bomb underneath. He reached his hand for the switch... ... and with that she knew the love of religion... --------------------------------------------------------------------- Please note the lack of senseless zine posturing. This has been reserved for a future time when there is nothing else worth writing about. --------------------------------------------------------------------- I am an anarchist. http://www.freenet.edmonton.ab.ca/~bts/splos.htm --------------------------------------------------------------------- I was going to put in some obnoxious rant from some net.luser about the benefits of animal sex. But I broke my mouse. My middle button doesn't work anymore. I can't paste. Do you know how frustrating it is to lose the use of the middle mouse button under X? Oh wait. The far right button is gone as well. So here I sit a X quadriplegic. Moving the mouse around in utter futility. Knowing that... you are feeling the shortcomings of my failures. I guess that makes us a bit closer on some spirtual level. Heh. Yhea right. --------------------------------------------------------------------- When techno appears in an eye-glasses commercial... well then it will have made "it"! --------------------------------------------------------------------- Statistics: 75% of all movies are PG-13. (Based on a sampling of movies viewed on cable in the past two weeks) 99% of all written material is crap. (Based on an analysis of junk email) 15% of all statistics are made up. (The rest are based on careful sorting) 86.3% of the letters in this zine are real. 100% of the people in Boston, suck. --------------------------------------------------------------------- http://www.futurefate.com/graphics/predict/armpred.shtml From the Millennium 2000 Report: In churches and twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, from the flickering television screen fundamentalist preachers relentlessly exhort untold millions of viewers around the planet that we are living in the biblical "end times," with Armageddon to take place around the year 2000... --------------------------------------------------------------------- Required Reading: URL: http://altavista.digital.com/ Search: +kill +whitey --------------------------------------------------------------------- Orbital: The Box http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Towers/8334/thebox.html Shares his neighbors with a building Knows addresses of by heart Draws a picture of his future Keeps the paper close at hand Packs his tongue into a suitcase Suffers terror on the train And he wants to start a movement Cause he's undestructible Destructible...suffers terror on the train He's indestructible And you know they'll never find us And they'll leave us aline And if we just keep on talking Then we'll still make it home There's commotion and promotion Now they've done good ever war Sell our pictures to a paper Now that everyone must know Trading satellites for substance let spectators pay their wat We'll invade the trevi fountain Now that everyone must pay Mama and babies mothers tragedy Babies mothers tragedy Babies mothers tragedy Terrifies the kill Vocals by Alison Goldfrapp and Fultanno Mauder - What did that teach us? That lyrics in techno/house/ambient/etc... are just as stupidly written as pop lyrics. Oh well. At least the music is good. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The Internet Sux (0001) (c) 1997 y (juuri@well.com) All references URLs are (c) their respective authors, or something.