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Activist Times International #98
AAA oct. 19, 1997 in the year of our
A A basketball season...
AAA
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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 luk. 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
[email protected]
For a free subscription send:
SUBSCRIBE ATI
as the entire message to:
[email protected]
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...
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