,,ggddY"""Ybbgg,, subversive literature ,agd888b,_ "Y8, ___`""Ybga, for subverted people! ,gdP""88888888baa,.""8b "888g, / ,dP" ]888888888P' "Y `888Yb, ,dP" ,88888888P" db, "8P"""" Installment 246 of... ,8" ,888888888b, d8" db. dP b. ,8' d88888888888,88 d$$$s. dP `8, - -- -THE NEO-COMINTERN ,8' 8888888888888" dP$$$$$s. dP 8. d' I8888888888P" dP `T$$$$$$dP `.d$$b. .d$$b. .d$$b..s$s 8 `8"88P""Y8P' dP `T$$$$P d$$$P dP' `$ dP' T$ dP' `TP' `T$ 8 Y 8[ _ " dP `T$P d$$$P dP dP dP dP dP dP 8 "Y8d8b dP dP :$ .$ $b. .dP dP dP dP 8 `"".dP dP `T$$P' `T$$P' dP dP dP Y, ,,odnd88b, ,b `8, ,d8888888baaa ,8' ELECTRONIC MAGAZINE- -- - `8, 888888888888' ,8' `8a "8888888888I a8' Writers: `Yba `Y8888888P' adP' ada "Yba `888888P' adY" aster `"Yba, d8888P" ,adP"' BMC `"Y8baa, ,d888P,ad8P"' - - - - -``""YYba8888P""''===================------- -- - - - - July 6, 2003 INSTALLMENT 246 BMC, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - FEATURED IN THIS INSTALLMENT: excerpts of excruciating emptiness - ada once there was a fish - aster Whatever Happened - BMC - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - EDITOR'S NOTE - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - Happy issue #246, folks. Just a few things to mention before we get to the articles here. 1) The date of the official launch for the 8th Neo-Comintern print issue has been announced. For those who are interested, here it is: Neo-Comintern launch and reading 8pm, August 13th, 2003 Amigo's Cantina Saskatoon, Saskatchewan We are expecting to have an hour or two of reading, followed up by a live performance of the third episode of The Joel and Jared Radio Show. The launch is expected to go until about 11:00. I think that's it, actually, for now. - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - excerpts of excruciating emptiness - ada - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - I have chunks of story chunks of meat in a stew, chunks of caked mud on my boots splayed out, thrashing but it's really going nowhere. ~ I don't write stories, for the specific reason that I can never begin them and they can never end themselves sad particles the bottom of the ocean where the glass is chipped split open some girl's skin my friend asks me how to write about hurt it isn't like that though, and I tell him I'm sure he is convinced I am lying. ~ yesterday I dig under my bed and find nothing good. ~ to write a long poem is much easier than to write a short story a short story is connected a long poem is also connected okay, maybe I haven't quite figured out the difference yet. ~ some sentences are pointless. ~ is it the writers who make us write the half cup of tea seated strategically by my computer I keep it half drunk while the story is half finished the half open desk drawer, the half closed curtain the half story, the half poem the unfinished finishing me. ~ my hair is half dry the ending is half approaching. ~ there is a picture with roots growing out of an eye it sits on top of my bookshelf I stare at it, and it convinces me not to stop I am sure my eye has sprouted I can see so much more today then yesterday. ~ the sun has disappeared over the other side of the next door house. this means I am almost finished ~ so the woman dies, and what am I suppose to do about it? that's just how the story wanted to go I'm not saying I took it that way out of malicious intent or a warning, a predication of the future. ~ I trade my melancholy tea for a sandwich with cream cheese the honey for chocolate milk the sky is fading, the trees have black fingers the clouds are ahead of our time I eat the sandwich in two bites; wipe my fingers on an old napkin you have to keep your energy up in times of emotional crisis I heard that on a TV show once. ~ the wind acts like it knows so much ~ I go into the kitchen samosas and mango chutney you are surprised coming home to see me doing dishes I'm waiting for the food, I say, I need to leave that room sometimes I have barely moved today outside it is almost completely dark. ~ it is dusk, this room is still aching with warmth the light in the sky is faint purple, colouring the inside of words I don't speak, only type a pattern arranging and rearranging candlesticks ~ I am called for supper it is spinach and bean casserole I'm not sure what to think about this. ~ I make you read what I have written so far. you are unimpressed. - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - once there was a fish - aster - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - in the night they like to fly. like birds or bats, dark shapes in the sky. tomorrow they land, in the morning light, and curl into little balls or cacoons or safe ways of being, and they dream during the day. they never sleep. on rainy days they hide on doorsteps, in the city. and on sunny days they fly into the country and watch the houses move up hills and into valleys. on days when the clouds drift slowly they whistle and sing, and on days when the sky is gray and still they cry for the trees and flowers and grass that is eaten, slowly. in the city they trip and swim, elsewhere they are not welcome. in the green parts, they play, but only for a little while. the space is small and shrinking. the end. - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - Whatever Happened - BMC - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - (Transcribed from a smouldering piece of crumpled paper found in a melting wastepaper basket) Whatever happened to major league sports players? I used to know all of their names, own their cards, and then bang. I tune out for a mere 10 years and I don't recognize a single name. This applies even more to baseball than to hockey. Whatever happened to Andy Van Slyke? Whatever happened to Jimmy Ray? One day he's asking who wants to know about him, and the next day he is faced with the world's cruel answer as he stands impatiently in the welfare line. Whatever happened to lemon grass peppers, thai style? I seem to remember what it was like to be in cities with restaurants. Here there's a choice between good nachos (Snooty Fox), bad nachos (Lunar Rogue), plain nachos with 7 kinds of sauce (Mexicali Rosa), and expensive nachos (El Burrito Loco). I could go for something other than nachos one of these nights. Whatever happened to Saturday night? I mean, what happened to last night? We just went to sleep, and when we woke up it was today! It seems to me like there's something wrong with that, but maybe it's just me or the fact that I smoked 29 joints laced with cocaine and dipped in acid. Whatever happened to birthdays? They're really important as you get closer to liquor age, and then life's pretty much over. Especially when you find out that beer doesn't taste at all like pop. Whatever happened to that time when I smoked up on the riverbank and watched these birds swoop down to the river, skim the top, then loop around and fuck shit up? That was some good weed. Whatever happened to independent artists? Why does Liz Phair get other people to write her songs now? Because she married a record label executive? She's changed her tune from "Fuck and run, even when I was twelve," to "Rock me baby, I've been waiting my whole life." Who is this person and why did I download her new album? Whatever happened to Saskatchewan? Summers, fringing, burning things at campgrounds, surviving in a winter shack, drinking bourbon and smoking cigarettes, sticks, stones, broken bones, phones, jones, frozen moans. Saskatchewan, I'm coming to get you. Whatever happened to the samurai tradition? Whatever happened to Nanook of the North? Whatever happened to monochrome? Whatever happened to the original series? Whatever happened to exact change? Whatever happened to that bottle I threw in the river? Whatever happened to King Tee? As I recall, he was one cool gee. Whatever happened? Where? Why? When? How? Whatever happened to anything? Answer me, blank page!!! - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - The Neo-Comintern Magazine / Online Magazine is seeking submissions. Unpublished stories and articles of an unusual, experimental, or anti-capitalist nature are wanted. Contributors are encouraged to submit works incorporating any or all of the following: Musings, Delvings into Philosophy, Flights of Fancy, Freefall Selections, and Tales of General Mirth. The more creative and astray from the norm, the better. For examples of typical Neo-Comintern writing, see our website at . Submissions of 25-4000 words are wanted; the average article length is approximately 200-1000 words. Send submissions via email attachment to , or through ICQ to #29981964. Contributors will receive copies of the most recent print issue of The Neo-Comintern; works of any length and type will be considered for publication in The Neo-Comintern Online Magazine and/or The Neo-Comintern Magazine. - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - ___________________________________________________ | THE COMINTERN IS AVAILABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBSES | |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~| | TWILIGHT ZONE (905) 432-7667 | | BRING ON THE NIGHT (306) 373-4218 | | CLUB PARADISE (306) 978-2542 | | THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME (306) 373-9778 | |___________________________________________________| | Website at: http://www.neo-comintern.com | | Questions? Comments? Submissions? | | Email BMC at bmc@neo-comintern.com | |___________________________________________________| | The Current Text Scene : http://www.textscene.com | |___________________________________________________| - - - - -- -------===========================------- -- - - - - copyright 2003 by #246-07/06/03 the neo-comintern All content is property of The Neo-Comintern. You may redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the content must not be altered or modified in any way. Unauthorized use of any part of this document is prohibited. All rights reserved. Made in Canada.