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- _____________________________________________________________________________
- ---------------------------- I Bleed for This? ------------------------------
- ------11.26.94-----------------------------------------------------#036------
-
- Women with Tatoos Know Everything About Love
- Commentary by Snarfblat
-
- By now, IBFT has probably convinced you that you are surrounded by morons
- (and that you are one of them). So it should come as no surprise to you that
- Machine Magazine exists. It is an ill-conceived "cyberpunk" zine with a
- cover price of $5.00. I don't know why a cyberpunk zine would be produced on
- paper in the first place; but that is the least of its faults.
-
- Inside the front cover of my free copy of "Version 1." of Machine, there is a
- photo of an ansgtful alternative guy. There he is in all his stereotypical
- cyberangstpunk fashion: Billy Idol hair, pierced nose/face, metal cross
- around his neck. Leather jacket. Rings. He is angry and rebellious and he
- has a scrotum full of mercury to prove it. God you suck. Not only do you
- have nothing intelligent to say, but you look like a victim of a shark
- attack.
-
- I think the Dead Milkmen said it best: "Ooh baby, look at you. Don't you look
- like Siouxie Sioux? How long it take to get that way? What a terrible waste
- of energy."
-
- I found the same picture in another paper zine, used as an ad for a place
- promising "fucked up hairstyles your parents will hate". Why will you not
- listen to IBFT? Destroying your body is not an acceptable form of rebellion.
- Stir shit up and kick ass if you think you have a good reason. Otherwise get
- a job.
-
- Machine Magazine, which is not worthy of being used to wipe my shit off Gary
- Mitchell's face, also contains some crap which tries to be artistic. There
- is the obligatory cartoon drawn by a retarded one year old, with such a
- stupid pretense that it barely deserves to be mentioned. "ShadowVenture by
- J.M. Hauber: IN 1944, THE THIRD REICH,UNDER FIELD MARSHAL HERMAN GOERING,
- CREATED A TEAM OF SUPER-ASSASSINS KNOWN AS THE "SHADOW VENTURES". THIS CRACK
- SUICIDE SQUAD WAS THE ULTIMATE DEVICE IN NAZI GERMANY'S STRUGGLE FOR VICTORY
- IN EUROPE. AT THE DEFEAT OF THE NAZI WAR MACHINE THE GROUP DISBANDED. NONE
- WERE EVER TRACKED DOWN. IN 1961 THE UNITED STATES IMPLIMENTED THIER OWN
- GROUP OF SHADOW VENTURES THAT ACCOMPLISHED SEVERAL "SILENT" VICTORIES
- WORLDWIDE. THIS GROUP BECAME OUT OF CONTROL AND WAS HUNTED DOWN AND
- DESTROYED, ALL BUT TWO WERE ACCOUNT FOR, UNTILL NOW..........."
-
- [all typos and idiocy are J.M. Hauber's fault -sna]
-
- I HOPE NO SHADOWVENTURES COME AND KILL ME IN MY SLEEP. After the intro, the
- strip is 3 panels long. The main character wears all black, smokes a
- cigarette and has a pierced ear. I can't tell if that's an eye patch or
- sunglasses. Who cares.
-
- Some idiot submitted photos of naked women taken at an airport. How very
- industrial. Here's my cyber-art idea: spray you and your bitches with plane
- fuel then chop your legs off and videotape you trying to slither off the
- runway as a 747 approaches.
-
- But the crowning jewel of idiocy, this musty wart picked off the ass of some
- pre-pubescent's idea of cyberculture, is a story by Gary Mitchell. After
- spending the first 13 years of his life in a windowless box with nothing but
- his own vomit to comfort him, Gary stumbled out one day and presented the
- world with this tribute to his flea-infested colon.
-
- I have tried to keep the story as close as possible to the already-mangled
- form I found it in. Line lengths, typing and spelling mistakes are left
- unchanged of course; pay attention to them, but don't let them distract you
- from the moronic intentions behind the story.
-
- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
- TATOO
-
- from Vignettes of Vargus
-
- by Gary Mitchell
-
- He was sitting there as preety as a new
- Roosevelt dim. Sitting there, one leg hooked
- over the leg of the barstool to steady the
- drift leeward, banging at the whiskey and
- whiskeys and spilling his guts to a woman
- with a tatoo.
- Spilling over the side, like a bucket too fulla
- rainwater.
- he was swigging and swaying with the jazz
- of his own invention, captuing her like
- enemy territory.
- She was biting.
- She was blonde, tattood, and a stinker.
-
- She liked them a little skinnier than him.
- Thin like the sax man's reed---never know if
- they'll sing or snap. She licked her lips and wet
- ol'Reed.
- Then she blew a sweet soulful tune.
-
- He was half-mesmerized by her obviouys
- charms and lack of sophistication. She was
- sophisticated as a checkout girl and twice as
- savy in the ways of the world.
-
- The hat check girl at Marty's had twice on
- the ball what she did. but then again Gloria
- was smart.
- And it showed.
-
- She was standing next to his stool, not
- doing anything to make him seem taller.
- She was a good six feet, spiked heels and all,
- and that put her shoulders and head over
- Reed.
-
- He hardly noticed because that put her
- nipple-high to her bosom. And to them was
- who he addressed most of his conversation.
-
- She was silent as roadkill cat and twice as
- slow on the uptake. She was slowed by too
- many rotten stories stuck in her ears and
- too little loving in her bed. Tha tmade her
- melancholy and that is stuf fheavy as
- cement to a woman with tatoos.
-
- Yet, rail-thin Reed kept plucking away at
- them heart strings hoping to catch a good sad tune
- she could whistle a few bars of.
- But no dice.
- She wasn't speaking to him.
- So he did all the talking for her.
- He didn't figure her silence for anything but
- flat out rejection, but he to to rejection like
- a duck to water---it rolled off his back.
- Sorta.
- And she was something to put in your eye.
- She was what the man called a looker.
-
- He told her eveything Held nothing back.
- About how love was a hard, hard road and
- how you had to possess the right mix of
- respect and compassion just like the carburetor
- had to have to proper mix of air and fire.
- And good feelings, they were important too.
- A couple had to know hot to get along
- when times were tough as well. as good.
- How to get over them rough patches---slick
- them down.
- How to talk about the little things people let
- go too long till it spoils their love and
- poisons their hearts againgst each other.
- He kept this up sensing her own deep
- rooted regret. She even dabbed her eyes
- now and again when it seemed appropriate.
- But she said nothing, just soft
- grunts of "uh-huhs".
-
- This was like spreading manure on weeds.
- He just couldn't give it a rest.
- People ought to spend more time getting
- the details right. The details were
- everything. Just about everything.
-
- To the devil with the higher notions of good
- and evil, give me the details, he waxed on.
- He had the notion she wantde to listen but
- was feigning disinterest.
- It was a burning desire in her, he was
- assured.
-
- He wanted to say it all up front. Even if it
- was...well, kinda...you know... a little
- embarassing to talk so sweet about
- things...but he was pretty sure of his
- manhood so the topic of romance wasn't
- threatening to him.
- And besides, he was better or worse for
- wine and it softened his rock-hard
- disposition.
- He was fuzzy and furry now and getting
- sappy about folkshaving no secrets.
- Nothing they couldn't tell each other or say.
- Like late at night.
- When they would lay in each other's
- armsand whisper things.
- She stood there and ordered another
- martini. She took his money from under his
- glass and passed it to Chuck Conners, the
- bartender.
- Obviously, not THAT Chuck Conners.
- The woman with the tatoos drank her
- martini. Reeed grew suddenly quiet. Was
- this to be it ---the sign, the symbol...the
- moment of truth...was she wooed and won!
- Had his charmes charmed her, the woman
- with the tatoos.He bit his lip in anticipation.
- Finally, she spoke.
-
- "Chuck. Hey, Chuck, you think you could
- get Gilligan's Island on the t.v.?"
-
- Women with tatoos already know everything about love.
-
- ==============================================================================
- IBFT: If we hate you, you don't deserve to know why.
-
- Information:
- bleed@unix.amherst.edu
- ftp.etext.org:/pub/Zines/IBFT The Eleventh Hour (617)696-3146
- ==============================================================================
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-