"God is as helpless as me" -Billy Corgan - Smashing Pumpkins ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: - -ÄÄÄÄ--- - - - - - --ÄÄÄÄ-- - . | __ __ : .s$$$$$$' `$$$$$$s. . .sS$$$$$$$$$s s$$$$$$$$$Ss. . , sS$$$$$$$"""" s$s """"$$$$$$$Ss ," """ .s `"s$$$s. s. """ ", . $$ $$$ "' $$ . $$ $$$ $$ , $$ ý$$ $$ . . .dss. ý$s. .ssb. .a"" "", ,"" ""a. : ` ' | . - -ÄÄÄÄ--- - - - - - --ÄÄÄÄ-- - Thinking t Text o ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: | TtT #1 | ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -enter ideal- Hi, welcome to 'Thinking to Text #1. you are all probably wondering who the fuck I am and why the fuck I am jumping on the growing bandwagon of 'zinedom. great! just what I wanted to tell you! First of all, now that i think of it, it's not really a bandwagon because there's not that terribly many people putting out zines. There's quite a few, but not enough to classify zinedom a bandwagon. Second of all, I'm just an average guy that constantly writes. I love writing. Everywhere I go I have a little notebook or paper-pad with me, and my favorite pen is always burrowed somewhere deep within my pockets. I write everything from sappy poetry, to editorials, to just plain stupid, feeble attempts at what I consider comedy. Some of the stuff that will be included in TtT may be too sappy or emotional but i don't care, that's who I am. If you have any criticisms, comments or suggestions, let me know. I don't expect alot of people to read this but I had two choices: 1) submit stuff to multiple zines and probably get it rejected, laughed at, and spit on. 2) collect it all in my very own zine and get it rejected, laughed at, and spit on. I chose #3 (all of the above). That's right! I've submitted some 'purty stupid stuff to other e-zines and it's actually been released! (hey, maybe I'm not all that bad???) Anyways, if you are reading this, thank you! I really appreciate it and trust me, it makes me feel all warm and gooshy inside. if you like it or dislike it enough to comment on it, leave me e-mail at kevin@mixcom.com or find me on IRC as ideal. I am usually in #zines. This is the last paragraph of the introduction I swear! I just wanted to let you know that i will accept submissions but please, before considering me, consider all of the other zines out there. They probably deserve your submissions more than I do. Some (not all) of the zines I read and enjoy on a half-way regular basis are: dto, y0lk, rad, and relish among many others. Read these if you get the chance and give them you're submissions before you honor me with them. Anyways, on to the first issue. -ideal -exit ideal- ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -enter index- +{title}+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++{author} -A Recipe For All Of You Food Rats---------------------------------ideal- -Excerpts..."Joe vs. the Volcano"----------------------------------ideal- -Mime Time---------------------------------------------------------ideal- -Satanic Tendencies------------------------------------------------ideal- -Truth-------------------------------------------------------------ideal- -Mechanical Education----------------------------------------------ideal- -Institution-------------------------------------------------------ideal- -exit index- ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -A RECIPE FOR ALL OF YOU FOOD RATS- -by ideal- Here's a nifty little recipe i thought i'd share with you all. I put it first just in case you wanted something to eat while reading the first issue of TtT. INGREDIENTS 2 slices of bread butter (or your favorite sandwich spread) a box of Bugles (tm) snacks DIRECTIONS First, butter up each slice of bread on one side each. (just like you are making a regular sandwich) Then, pile as many Bugles(tm) snacks between the two slices of bread. Gently press down on sandwich for stability. Now, you are ready to eat! ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -EXCERPTS FROM SCRIPTS THAT WERE REJECTED FOR THE MOVIE "JOE vs. THE VOLCANO"- -by ideal- "Joe vs. the Volcano" has to be one of the biggest cheese-ball-istic movies ever made. Like all movies, it went through many re-writes before the final script was accepted and immortalized on film. I thought i'd share with you some of the scripts that were rejected in the creation of this movie. SCRIPT #1 [As the screen fades in, we are looking down upon a city park. As we move in closer, a park bench is in the center of the screen. Upon the bench placed in the park (ergo,"park bench") is a man dressed in a plain white suit. On this man's lap, lies an old briefcase. Lying atop the briefcase which lies atop the man's lap, is a box of candy. The man stares into blank space as if he were waiting for the mother ship to beam him up. After a period of 5 minutes, a bus pulls up and it's doors hiss open. Out steps a black woman and she sits next to the man on the bench] MAN Hello. What's your name? WOMAN Greta... Greta Williams. MAN Hello, my name's Joseph... Joseph Trump. Where are you going-a? GRETA I'm waitin for a bus so i can get to the airport. Then i am going to catch a 9:30 flight to Kenya to visit my cousin. JOE I was in Kenya once about 4 years ago. That's Where i met my best friend Lubba. He an' I, we started a tofu company we did... Called it Lubba/Trump tofu. Kenya's nice, I remember the volcanoes the best. Would you like a chocolate, mint, butterscotch, cough drop, or a mentos? [Joe extends the box of candy to Greta] GRETA No thanks. You said you've seen the volcanoes of Kenya? JOE Oh, yes. They were ver-ry big. Lubba and me got captured by a tribe of aboriginies and we were forced to sacrifice our pet monkey to the great volcano god. it broke Lubba's heart but not me...Cuz my momma always said "Monkies are like a box of chocolates, if you throw either of them in a volcano, they'll probably melt." And ya know what? she was right! The monkey melted just like that he did. And that's all i have to say about that. GRETA Your mother was a very intelligent woman. JOE Not really, stupid is, and stupid she was... END SCRIPT #1 SCRIPT #2 [the camera is facing a young man who looks terrified. he is sitting in a chair holding his shoulder which has been shot. He is bleeding profusely and seems to be in shock.] BLACK MAN (O.S.) Now, muther fucker, if you don't tell me what my boss, Mr. Marco Walters looks like, i'm gunna make you into a big kahuna burger! YOUNG MAN He's black!.....and he's bald! BLACK MAN Does he look like a fuckin' chicken? YOUNG MAN What?? BLACK MAN What language you speak boy? You betta' not say "what" again either! Cuz I don't speak "what"! YOUNG MAN I speak French, German, Japanese, a little Chinese, Pig Lat..... BLACK MAN Do you speak english mother fucker?? YOUNG MAN Yes!! BLACK MAN Good, then answer me, does my BOSS LOOK - LIKE - A - CHICKEN?? YOUNG MAN NO! BLACK MAN Then why'd you try to choke him like one? YOUNG MAN I didn't... BLACK MAN Yes you did punk! you choked his chicken and threw it into that volcano! YOUNG MAN Look! The volcano treatened to kill me! BLACK MAN What? the mutha fuking volcano said "joe, throw me a chicken or i'll cap your bitch ass" ? JOE yeah, kind of. so you see, i had to! If I didn't, i would be dead and the volcano probably would've erupted and killed all of the villiagers. BLACK MAN Oh, so you some kind of hero now i guess?? Well, then, i got a speech just about heros. Do you read the bible joe? JOE No, but i have one over by the couch that i use for a coaster. BLACK MAN Oh, that's ok, i wuz just wonderin'. I don't read it either. Anyways, here's my speech, then my pal Vinny and i have to go enter a Twist contest. Mommaladayalacha, 31:337 the path to the volcano, is followed by a hero that walks with a chicken. What he doesn't know is that my boss' chicken farm was robbed so i got'z to give him a lickin'. [with that, the black man pumps joe full of lead and secretly wonders how a volcano could talk?] END SCRIPT #2 SCRIPT #3 [two school kids are playin' in a jungle in Kenya. They come upon a clearing near the base of a volcano] KID #1 Hey Joe! Go long, catch this coconut! JOE Ok, here i go.. ... I got it! (he runs into the side of the volcano) ouch!#@# shit, you mother fucking piece of volcano shit! [joe starts to beat the shit out of the volcano as best he can] JOE OW!!! Stupid, stupid volcano! I hate you. You sux0rz! you couldn't kill a fly! [the ground starts to shake and the rock side of the volcano cracks open. Smoldering lava bursts from the side of the volcano and the last thing we see is the flesh of JOE and BOY #1 melting off of their bones] END SCRIPT #3 ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -MIME TIME- -by Marcel Marceau- and now, the mime preforms his favorite movie, "Singing in the Rain"... ...That was the Mime, preforming his favorite movie, "Singing in the Rain". ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -SATANIC TENDENCIES- -by ideal- Jake was awakened by the sound of the construction men outside of his apartment window. "Fucking jewish jackhammer!" he said softly underneath his breath. He rose from his inexpensive futon and lit the circle of candles he had set up in the middle of his room. Taking his razor, Jake made a deep slice in his right, middle finger without wincing at all. Slowly, as the blood dripped off the end of his scarred hand, he drew a pentegram on the floor within the boundaries of the candles. When everything was prepared, Jake casually sniffed at his armpits. "Woo! I better take a shower before I summon the devil! Gotta be clean for my date'n with Satan!" he thought. ... The shower was extremely hot. It burned right through to Jake's soul when the water splattered on the scars from his self-mutilation rituals. He didn't flinch or dare to let out a recognition of pain. If he did, he would certainly dissappoint his evil underlord. After the shower, he grabbed his leather-bound "Book-O-Evil" and stood naked at the foot of the pentagram. Speaking in mysterious tongues, Jake's face turned very grave and serious. However, a slight smirk of anticipation could be seen bubbling at his mouth. He was very excited! It was his first time summoning the devil to his apartment. Someone was at his apartment door! Jake opened the door a crack and peered through the opening. "Who is it?" he asked with a slight tinge of annoyance on his voice. "Avon calling!...Who the fuck do you think it is? You're the one who was chanting right? Or did I get the wrong apartment again? I hope not, cuz then I'll have to kill you." "Woah! you're the devil!" Jake exclaimed. He threw the door open and extended his welcome to the man he thought was the devil. "Come on in!" "EGAD MAN!##@ You're naked! you're not some wierdo are you? Put some clothes on!" said the man outside of the door. "Oh, sorry Lucifer!" "I'm not Lucifer, I'm just one of his demon cohorts." "WHAT?#! Jake exclaimed in disappointment. "Why isn't Satan here? I summoned Satan, not some second-rate demon janitor boy!" "Boo Hoo Hoo... You think that Satan really wants to visit every mindless worshipper who summons him? There's millions of people like you who try to summon him everyday. He used to visit them all, but he got sick of it. So he guarantees the oh-so-lucky demons like me, a few souls if we do the dirty work." explained the demon. "Besides, Satan has been in so many other zines anyways! It's about time us demons get a chance!" "Well,....fine! Where is Satan though? Is he *that* busy?" "Actually, he's in the middle of a bridge game right now. Then, after that, he's getting a petticure and his horns are being waxed at 5:00. So you see, he is a pretty busy devil." "What?? Are we talking about the same guy? You know, Lucifer, Beelzabub, the lord of evil?? Yuh know, bloody teeth, claws dripping with intestines and human feces?" "Yeah, I know who you're talking about! same person. He's just not as all-terrifying as you foolish mortals think." "Foolish? At least I'm not the one who looks like Bob Sagat!" screamed Jake. "Wha??" "Bob Sagat, you look like Bob Sagat." "All demons look like this! And we're very proud of our image!" "Whatever! Hey, why didn't you appear in a puff of smoke inside of the nice pentagram I blood-stained on my carpet? I thought there's supposed to be fire and other stuff when you guys are summoned." "We used to do that, but that's old school! Now we're more into knocking on the front door. What the fuck does it matter anyways? I'm here! Now what in the hell did you try summoning Satan for?" "Well, I wanted to talk with the big man for a while...hey, he doesn't look like Bob Sagat too, does he?" "Nope, Vanilla Ice" "Ugh!...Well, I also wanted to ask him for magikal powers of evil." "Now what makes you think that jolly ol' Satan would grant a fool like you magikal powers?" "Well, uh, I'm always worshipping him and celebratin' him every waking minute of my life!" "Do you actually think that he cares how many fucking goats you killed in the woods last week or how many glasses of blood you drink in any given day? We think people like you are stupid." "Well, at least I don't play bridge!" "Hey! We all play bridge down there! It's our favorite game and it's pretty much the only game we play!" "Geez, now I know why they call it Hell! You evil beings are pretty boring. You're not as cool as I thought you were!" "Oh?!? You think you would be a better Hell inhabitant than us? that's a joke!" [SPLUT!] Jake had split the demon's chest open with the cross his mother brought him last Christmas. The demon let out a horrific scream and then burst into bright, crimson flames. "No mother fucker, I think I'd be a better RULER of Hell!" Wow, Jake had just killed a demon! He felt very powerful and very very important. He felt as if he could take over the world. "I'll show that Bridge-playing evil-wannabe what real terror really is! Watch out Satan!, here comes Jake!" he squealed. With that, Jake grabbed his cross and headed out the door. He was on his way to teach the devil a lesson that he would never forget. THE END???? (i doubt it) ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -TRUTH- -by ideal- Desolate minds think While searching for their kind On this desolate plain On a desolate earth Shatter the soul That burns deep within Forcing you to learn Forcing you to see Opening your eyes, Light scorches you Truth frightens you And the lies are created Shadowing your power, It will always be there Among the men, among the gods The truth knows we are both The insanity is greater Now new fears arrise Darkened skies overrun Your lies are dead, the future has come ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -MECHANICAL EDUCATION- -by ideal- I walk through the doors of my high school 5 days out of every week on average. Like everyone else, i conform to the cycle of the day. Walk to class, sit in my assigned desk, listen to overpaid so-called teachers read from books, and then go home. It's all really pointless to me sometimes. Do i really go home at 3 o'clock with any more knowledge than i had at 7 o'clock? No! For 11 years now, i have been doing virtually the same thing. Granted, for the first 6 or 7 years of my education it was definately needed. However, teaching methods today are practically the same as brainwashing methods, only on a conscious level. Now that i am in the most influential point in my life, i need something different to occupy my mind which is in a constant state of boredom. Since day one, we are taught to memorize. Dates, names, capitals, statistics, etc... I, for one, am fed up with it. I'm not saying that memorization is the worst way to learn, but it's definately not the best. In fact, memorization can be very effective if it's used in safe doses. See, I come from a generation that will, if we continue to conform, be excellent Trivial Pursuit players. The only problem is that no thinking will be involved. We are witnessing the introduction to a future where no one will think for themself. For example, the size of cliques in my school are increasing everyday while the number of *different* cliques is decreasing. Hundreds upon hundreds of people walk around, looking towards others to see what is acceptable. They all show intrest in practically the same things. "What does this have to do with education?" you may be asking. Well, the same thing happens in classes except for the fact that there are only 2 different cliques in the eyes of the system. There are the do-ers and the slackers. I fit in neither group and there is a very plausable possibility that you don't either. However, I am viewed as some members of the school's faculty as a slacker. An explaination for this may be revealed in my opinionated reasoning. First of all, let me explain the two different cliques that are present in the classroom. The do-ers are the people who come into class, listen to the instructor read from the book or notes, and copies down everything the instructor writes on the board. Keep in mind, while these people may score higher on tests than me, I doubt that most of them are learning much. Most of the do-ers i have encountered, act like small sponges. Meaning, they soak up the information that they need for the current chapter or section, then when they have taken the test or are otherwise finished with the section, these sponges are wrung out. Next, the slackers. The slackers are simply the people who either skip out of classes to smoke, get high, etc... or the people who come to class and watch nothing but the hands of the clock. These slackers are usually the ones who just don't give a fuck about education or their future. They, more than likely, don't have any valid reasons to hate school. I have been labelled a "slacker" by some of my 'educated' teachers when, in fact, i am more of a do-er than a slacker. As of late, my grades have been decreasing because of my silent protest towards the education system. The repetitiveness of it has bored me so completely that i have just decided to neglect a certain amount of my studies. While this decision could be looked upon as very un-intelligent and even dangerous to my future, i choose to look at it in a different light. I see myself as taking less time to program myself and taking more time to think. Instead of commiting to short-term memory what year George Washington's wooden teeth started to rot, i spend my time looking at the world and formulating my own opinions through observation. Keep in mind, facts and statistics are still important to me but not any more important than emotion or new ideas. This may hinder my chances at being able to get into a "good" college or a well-paying job, but i don't care. So, what do i think we should do? To tell you the truth, i don't know. I could suggest writing a letter to the school board in your area but i know that the majority of you out there wouldn't do it. This was just something i needed to get off my chest. If you agree with me and are tempted to take action, do it! I'll probably just continue to be scorned by others and lead a moderately satisfying life watching the world cause it's own destruction. ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -INSTITUTION- -by ideal- Escaping my tears Condoning my words Illusionary lullabyes Filled with lying morals Institutionalized in sorrow I don't like the institution Institutionalized tomorrow I don't trust the constitution Tear my heart out with your lectures Bind my body with white cloth Reddened eyes and desert dry throats Croaking thoughts like pale bullfrogs I don't believe in the one man's ghost That's supposed to save us from ourselves My savior is of this world Not something I can't reach...breach? Institutionalized in sorrow I don't like the institution Institutionalized tomorrow They don't follow the constitution! I love the freedom I don't get... They don't give... You don't govern me unless I let you! ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: -CONCLUSION- -re-enter ideal- Well, that's issue one. I hope most of you like it and keep reading it. Pass it along, upload it to all of the bbs'z you call and leave me feedback. This publication has no affils yet because i'm the only one who knew about it untill it was released. If you want to be an affil for any reason (although i don't know why you would), just ask me. e-mail: kevin@mixcom.com I would really enjoy and appreciate any submissions but like i said in the introduction, be sure to consider the other zines out there that deserve submissions more than i do. -re-exit ideal- ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: __________________/\__________________ \______ _____| |_____ ______/ | | `"| |"" | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |_, | | | | \_-" | | | |thinkingtotext| | | | issue #1 | | \ | -released- | / \| -04.30.96- |/ -4:45 pm- ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: "So let the guilty hang, In the year of the boomerang." -David De La Rocha -Rage Against The Machine