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AAA oct. 19, 1997 in the year of our A A basketball season... AAA T TTTT T I I IIIIIII I I W e l c o m e 2 ATI98. Activist Times, Informational. Your parabolic metaphor for life. A newspaper. An e-newspaper. A news e-paper. The zine with a pulse, ATI is a prime anarchist production in conjunctivitis with Ground Zero communiques. Contributing chiders, hooters and hollarers were Owen Marques, Buster Balsac, Phineas T. III, D00d 26, Anne Arkey and the disk wizzyard. We're a loose-knit group of cyber-writers. Or was that a loosely written group of cyber knit-wits? Or loosely, we're a cyber-group of witty writers. Yeah, that's the ticket. Loosely, that's what we are. Well, be glad we're not a bunch of dim-witted knitting cyber-groupies who write about being loose. OK, a quick palindrome reprint and then on with the numbers run. Then our usual news doodads, or whatever. Ma, Jesus. Use jam. This issue written on a Macintosh SE using Microsoft Word 5.1 and a version of Excel that none of us know the number of because we still haven't sent in our registration yet. Wish us luck. You may not even see this issue. The last time we tried to stray from the Prime computers and try something exotic, wild, fun or goodlooking was issue 9...and see where that got you! Huh? http://ccwf.cc.utexas.edu/~panicbuy/HaTeMaiL/altjournalism.html http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli I get my energy from the ocean, I don' care how you pollute it; Sand itself's my hourglass, No matter h'much you dilute it! ATI 98 - The Last Windows Based Activism Application You'll Ever Need. (We Promise ;) /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ ATI CORRECTIVISM OF THE WEEK: The 97 edition of ATI listed Warrior Poets Society East as http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli/WARR.html the correct URL is: http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli/warr.html Change your bookmarks if you screwed that up too. We're sorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry. . Flash!!! ATI will no longer come out weekly; but you'll . . hardly notice a difference. We'll be publishing . . every new, half and full moon. . . So you'll see four live nude issues upon your . . doorstep every month. . . Or at least every moon. . . . this has been an announcement of . the chalice of . info f o u n d a t i o n And now we continue with Sisyphus continuing saga about continuing in cyberspace. "A Day In a Life (One of Many) Of a Pot-Smoker" Sigenos... (CON'T From Last Issue.) (due to word- processor incompatibilities, this saga was faithfully hand-typed by Candi Grrl. Shut the computer down, got dressed and went outside (again.) The cold WAS moderating. The car started on the THIRD try! (Minor miracle.) Went to the local vending box for a paper. None there. Went upstairs and finished off the coffee. Went back out & me and the dog got in the car. Picked up a paper at a corner vendor and headed for the Lyman-Allyn museum. When we got there, I opened the passengers door, (off like a shot again) closed it and sat in the sun with the motor running, warming up and reading the newspaper. Called the dog back after about 15 minutes and went back home, carefully parking in the Greek Church parking lot a half-block away to avoid getting a ticket. Went in the back way, rapped on the roommate's door to get him to move HIS car and made another cup of coffee. Read the paper. The other roommate got up and we started scheduling our day. (we had to move some items from his old apartment to this one.) Ate a tuna sandwich. Got high. Then my short-term memory went to hell. To hell with Kerouac anyway. As you can see so far the day was utterly normal and banal. Hey waddaya want? Besides, do you really WANT me describing chopping onions and peppers, garlic, eggs, doling out mayo, mustard, measuring vinegar, opening tuna cans, etc. and going on about it for the next page and a half? Hell the operation took two hours. But now I got midday sammitches for a week. Played Bob Dylan's new CD. Dutch got it for Christmas. He left a copy here. I like the music and the selections. "Series of Dreams", I gotta get the lyrics to. After 10 am the telephone calls started. First Ken Stroebel from the Bulletin. I forget what it was, but we fixed it. He got his picture/poster/graphic. We chatted about Live Nude Art. I hung up the phone and went after another cuppa coffee. Then I said, I'll call first and called Kathy Cohen from the Westerly Sun. She was all set, had everything she needed. Of course, Scott Timberg was next. but I was able to logon to BBS and play a bunch of TradeWars turns first. Made 600M. Every three days now. Scott was collecting quotes for his article and wanted to update the Hygienic Schedule. It was hard making perfect sense, keeping track of exactly who'd said what the night before at the last organizing committee (group?) meeting at the DutchTavern. I'd heard Vinnie say for the last couple of days that there was a group of dancers from Connecticut College that wantedto do a show at the show. I mean what else is a Show for? And Billy had said something of the same sort. So it seemed that there indeed was something up. They'd told me about Albert Kausch's poetry reading at the Keep, but I'd forgotten the time it was to start. OK, so Scott and I talk 15-minutes and I know there's things I gotta find out. I can call him back. I call Vinnie and leave a message on the machine. "Everything's not set in stone yet. What's this about dancers? I need info ASAP!! It's 12:21. PLEASE call back soonest." Call Bingham. He's not making any sense. Putting his two- year-old up for a nap. Neither of them make sense at that time. (Maybe it's ME and THEY'RE making the sense. No. I don't take naps in the afternoon. (CONTINUED NEXT TIME. (Tune in next week when, Sisyphus drinks kool-aid, gives a book review, and zonks on pot.)) A Joke 4 U. by Charles C. Chaplin XX. (The "C" is short for Catharsis) Princess Diana attended the Knighting of a poor country bumpkin man just one year ago today. (by the way, you can retell this joke any way you want - you have my permission) He was raised on a farm, raised kids of his own on a farm, and despite the fact that he's now Lord Sir High and Mighty poor country bumpkin man the 3rd, esq.; he's very quick to say he'll remain on a farm until the day he dies. "It's just the place for me," said bumpkin, "listen, don't you see?" The worthyhood of bumpkin's knighting came to the Queen's attention when United States' Guinnes Book of Stout World Records published a report that bumpkin had broken the world's record in rhyming when it was deduced that since a repeat skeeting-while-skiing accident had him lopping off a piece of his ear on a tree at age three, he'd used precisely 432,964 and a half rhymes. bumpkin insists it was more than that but no matter, he'd already been well past breaking the record at age 20. He's now 53, and it's been thirty years since he'd been to court asking permission to change his name officially from thor desultory pumpkin to poor country bumpkin. "Now I've gotta do it again," sighed bumpkin about the knighting bringing him back into court to formally adopt the new names "sir" and "lord" which is required of all no-longer-errants since the turn of the 13th century, "but I'll try to remain Zen." The Queen's great-grand-neice will now be marrying bumpkin against her mother's wishes for she's 39 years his junior. "He saved my life," said the beautiful lass of a similar ear-accident she'd had just last month, "I shall please to be his wife." The London Evening Sub-Standard quoted her on the front page this morning referring to him as her Knight and Rhyming Farmer. Guffaws, groans and gargantuan ticklish giggles are allowed now. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= How Timeless, a guest editorial by Anne Arkey from Headwaters, Florida. "I don't need no million men marching to get me MY job," says Archie Bunker to his "meat-head" son in law on a recent re-run of a 20 year old All In The Family episode. "Yeah," says Edith, his wife. "His Uncle got him it. I believe that stands on its own, prime anarchist, so there you have it. My gest-edd. -aa- () () () () () () () () () () () () () () () additional ascii art-clips at the suggestion of Sisyphus () () () () () () () () () () () () () () () ATI. Not just for modems anymore. -------------------------PAWN------------------------------------ PRIME Anarchist World News - Madagaszcar, IRELAND ATI Offers MCI $70 B. MCI turned down electronic news giant ATI and chose GTE/Sprint/Telenet/NASA as their friendly neighborhood downsizer. "I mean they only offered Magowan Communism Incorporated 30 Billion," said Prime Anarchist, CEO of ATI, Activist Times, Incorporated sniffing snot all up and down his shirt sleeve, choking back tears the size of grapefruits. "I mean c'mon. Just because they offered cash. Hey, my stock's good." Anarchist is at the time accused of overinflating sharestock values 3/1 in an effort to appear bigger than Apple, Microsoft and Sun combined at all local state and federal Wall Streets. --------------------------PAWN--------------------------------- There were no letters to the editor this week, unless you count the guessed editorial. <><><><><><><><><> calendular <><><><><><><><><> Fast for sanity October 24 thru 26 29 october national end corporate dominance day 30 oct. 1938 famous war of the worlds broadcast 31 all hallows eve. And a new moon at that. 5 November. 1991. Illegal logging causes floods killing 7,000 humans in the Phillipines. 7 nov. halfmoon. some call it the Heyoka. I'll be different and call it the hokahey. 9 nov. 1965. NYC goes dark. famous blackout. 14 nov. full moon. 21 nov. another halfmoon for you. 24 nov. 1968. WITCH. (Womens Int'l Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell) storms NY Stock Exchange dressed as witches. Lets call that the BigApple BrewParty. As per usual, we end with a poem, because Myth is All. JOURNAL POEM 26 from the book, "I Slurp My Coffee" by Marco Capelli Rosebud in July. Singing for the medicine man. Said it made his heart smile. Helped him think of other things. All the doctors know about is Transfusions and sharp stuff. Oh, and pharmaceutical Petroleum product pills too. Omaha medicine man plays my Guitar and makes it sing. Had a guitar, but gave it away Said to a young guy who needed It more: he's just beginning. Nice sitting back hearing my Guitar playing someone else. Black bean burrito at Red Herring Coffeehouse Champaign, Illinois. Black squirrel sits in front of Old Mother Hubbard's Cupboard And Liquor Cabinet; eating her Out of house and home. A black and white dog Pee-ing on your car-tire Is a Creator sent clown. Just say "Thank you." Black and yellow banana with Cuba sticker on Santee rez. Winnebego PowWow. 15 year old AT Red Cross booth oggles Smiles- A-Lot from "Dances With Wolves." I talk him into autographing her One dollar bill. Visiting her, Almost causes her a coronary. Bet he breaks a lot of hearts: Old Nathan, especially with his Big Lakota smile. Sing to a red-winged black bird- He'll follow from Dakota to Ohio. Guthrie, IA - Much Different from Guthrie, OK. (How? See for your self.) For a printed copy of all 33 poems and a forward by William Kunstler, send a $3 money order to: Bonnie Whitesinger Box 733 Hotevilla, AZ. 86030 Send all e-submissions to ati@etext.org For a free subscription send: SUBSCRIBE ATI as the entire message to: listserv@brazerko.com Quickest place to find backissues of ATI right now is at http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli/cygnus.html And should you have a complaint about your service... 
