,,ggddY""""Ybbgg,, ,agd""' `""bg, T H E N E O - C O M I N T E R N ,gdP" "Ybg, ,dP" ""` ,dP" _,,ddP"""Ybb,,_ .s*""*s .s*"*s. ,8" .+$ '""' `"Yb, .P' $ `.d' `b ,8' .+$$$$ssss+. sssss "'d' .sssP d' `b db. ,8' .+$$$$$$$$$$$$$$+. $$$$$ d' ,P' d' s*s $ d' `b d.+$$$$$$$$$$$$$$`*$$$$+.$$$$$$$$$ $ :$ d'.P .Pd' $ _ 8`*$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ o`*$$$$$$$$ T. `b. :$ TsP .Pd' $ .+P"*+. 8 `*$$$$$$$$$$$ OOb.`*$$$$$ T. `^**sT. .Pd' . $ .+P' :P 8 `*$$$$ YOOOObooi `b. $ T. .P'd' .P $P' .P' 8 `*$ "OQQQO" `TsggsP `TssP' d' .PT. . .P' Y, i. aP ,P d .P :$b+.d' .P' `8, "Ya aP" ,8' d; .P .d' .P' `8, "Yb,_ _,dP" ,8' `*TP .d' .P' `8a `""YbbgggddP""' a8' d; .P' `Yba adP' `*TP' "Yba adY" `"Yba, ,adP"' `"Y8ba, ,ad8P"' E L E C T R O N I C M A G A Z I N E ``""YYbaaadPP""'' .-. t h e l i t e r a r y m o l o t o v c o c k t a i l .-. / \ .-. .-. / \ / \ / \ .-. _ .-. / \ / \ `-------\-------/-----\-----/---\---/-\---/---\-----/-----\-------/-------' \ / \ / `-' `-' \ / \ / \ / `-' `-' \ / `-' I N S T A L L M E N T N U M B E R 2 6 3 `-' N O V E M B E R 1 6 , 2 0 0 3 B M C , E D I T O R - I N - C H I E F FEATURED IN THIS INSTALLMENT: solipsism - eidetik James 3D - Heckat Living Narrator - BMC _/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_ EDITOR'S KNOWTE Well, in case you didnot get enough of James 2D in issue 106 (I know I didnot), hereis some more Jimmy D action for ya. This issue is essentially a big funk yall to tha world. Hope you enjoy it, suckaz. p.s. monsters monsters monsters and friends (this issue and every other dedicated to issue 106) If anyone wants to purchase the exclusive rights to any of the stories on the N-Com website pre-dating issue 100, they are available for $5 each. Gnarly Wayne articles on sale: $4.50! _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ \"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._ _.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/ " " " " " " " """"" " " " " " " " _/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_ solipsism by eidetik _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ \"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._ _.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/ " " " " " " " """"" " " " " " " " i. no surrogate i am no surrogate to a mediated soul i have a hard time suffering names- today's trucker mouth names- like saddam bush ed like anthropomorphic superstitions resurging even when my mind ambles bored of rome as it falls names are a waste of time yet i name myself in the margins of every person i meet and i am an index of their expletives named something or another i am no surrogate to a mediated soul 135 pounds of nervous flesh six feet tall seven letters behind i stare through the holiest of enshrined titles while screaming into their ears - i am the arrogant god- but that would name me you and wouldn't it make me them ii. I am we are i suffer from solipsism my particular an antonym for the clicking accents of typographic faces writing: we are we are we are we are we are everyone our names closer to us than our bodies the patronymic reborn emilys accepting a pledge to god-who-is-dead before the love of self the bouncy michelles named every multi- syllable distinctive of cute glennis who slowly denatured amanda who grew bored in the dissected moment the fucking krystas and jimmys and Angie i have a hard time suffering all that i name- i am the namer of all i see- iamiamiamiamiamiameveryone _/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_ James 3D by Heckat _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ \"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._ _.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/ " " " " " " " """"" " " " " " " " Speaking of the dimensions, there was once a boy called James who lived in the regular 4D world. He ate apples that distinctly possessed height, width, and length, and they also grew ripe (if he didn't eat them in time they would wither, brown, and die too). You might think that this James had everything a boy could want, but let me tell you, sometimes all a 4D guy longs for is to roll it back a dimension. Times were good before (time). Back in ol' dimension number 3. So he dreamed a dream where he was only 3 dimensions tall. But, like all dreams, this existence was not what James had expected. Instead of living outside of time, and not growing old (which is what he had hoped would happen), he lost all substance in his body and was no longer corporeal. He was just like those holograms in Red Dwarf or Quantum Leap that can pass through tables and cupboards and human beings. What made him different, though, was that unlike those beings who always managed to stay on board their ship without drifting out of the ship's walls and floating into outer space, James 3D couldn't even touch the earth's surface. He was completely insubstantial. Cool. But bad and weird too. James 3D couldn't gain his footing. He slipped under the surface of the earth and started plummeting though the layers (crust, lithosphere, athenosphere, etc.) until he popped out on the other side (China, if you will). But because of gravity, the ride didn't stop there. James found himself hovering above the surface for a moment before he was pulled back through the earth a second time. Over and over, James was at the will of his mighty spinning planet. Part of it was OK though because he was really supposed to die when his body hit the magma, but because he was only 3D and not 4D he believed he could never die. So he didn't. When people asked him about it he said "no way, no how, no dat." _/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"-._/"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_.-"\_ Living Narrator by BMC _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ \"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._\"-._ _.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/_.-"/ " " " " " " " """"" " " " " " " " I curse the state of my car as I step out onto the driveway. It's been a drab night at work, and the last thing I need is for my car to stall out six times on the way back. Who knows if it'll start again tomorrow. Must be the -40 weather. At least I'm home now, I think as I plug the radiator in. I walk to the back door. I can see the kitchen light through the back window. Emma's already up. I rattle my key in the lock. It must be way past six. Still dark out, though. I push the door open with my shoulder and hear the frost crack around the edges. Emma's standing there in the kitchen. Her brown hair is still damp from the shower. I'm happy to see her, to be warm, to be out of that death trap of a car. When she hears me she looks up, mildly amused. "What are you doing?" she asks. "The car kept breaking down. But I'm glad to be back home with you now, sweetie." She smiles. She looks confused. "Can you stop referring to me as "she?" she asks. "Joe, can you please stop repeating everything I say?" "Joe, I mean it." "Joe," she says, "what's wrong with you? Quit saying everything out loud." I guess I should tell her what's going on. I explain it all at great length, but she is unconvinced. "Joe," she says, "you didn't explain anything to me. You just said you explained. That's not the same thing. Please quit repeating everything I say." I feel bad for her. "Stop this third person crap!" "Stop mimicking me!" "Wait, sorry. I explain to her, you, what occurred to me as I was at work. The reason for all of this, the weather, the car, the fact that I have to work a graveyard shift as a janitor, it's all very simple. I'm not in this world for my own benefit. There's someone, somewhere, in another world, that is listening to everything I say." She looks at me like she's waiting for a punchline. She puts her hands over her mouth. I think there are tears in her eyes. She turns away from me. I need to say something to her. "Listen, I'm sorry. Stop. I don't want you to be upset. I'll do anything I can to make you stop being upset." She turns around with a look of hope in her eyes. She screams. "Listen, Joe," she says, wincing at the sound of my voice repeating her words, "this person in another world- they don't really exist. I'll stay home from work today, and we can make an appointment with the doctor NO. I have to interject. I tell her I can't stop doing this. I'm making us exist. I'm doing it for her. "Don't call me her," she says, "Call me Emma. Please!" She begins to sob. "Stop it! They don't exist! Don't tell me that I'm just here for someone else's pleasure." "I'm sorry, Emma. You are." "Are you saying someone's watching me right now?" I tell her she is being watched her through me, through the things I say. That is why I have to keep talking. If I stop talking, she won't exist. It's because I love her. It's because we smiled at each other the first day I started going to the same high school as her. It's because we started dating in mid-spring, because we made love in the forest, because the smell of pine and blankets on grass will always remind me. I can't lose it. "Joe, Joe, Joe," she says. "Listen, it's OK. You've been working too many night shifts alone. Come on. Quit your job, I know you hate it. Look for something else." SHE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND! It's not the job! It's everything! We exist because of them! I'm saving her fucking life! "Joe, can you hear me? Calm down. They don't exist. It's not real. You're just stressed. Relax. If you stop believing in them, they don't exist." "Emma, it's not true! I wish it were. I wish it were. Just watch." "See? If I don't believe in them, I don't exist! You don't exist. I need to keep doing it." Emma is sad, no wait, angry? She screams something that isn't a word, giving the finger to the air with both hands. "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU ASSHOLES!" she sobs. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO JOE? JOE, stop yelling." "Emma, they're not doing it to me, they're doing it for me. They're doing it for you. I think you can get used to it." "Joe, I don't want to be a part of this fucking world. I want to get out of it." "Come on, Emma, it's not so bad." "If I'm part of this person's world, what does that mean for me? I have no privacy. I'm not real. Why am I here? Why do I have to be here? This is so stupid. I just want to live my own life." "I'm sorry. You can't." "Joe, I'm leaving." "Emma, if you walk out the door, you will cease to exist. The only reality is what is filtered through me. Believe me. I need you to exist. I love you. I'll tell you what. Stay here, don't go to work, and I will stop all of this forever. I promise." "Even if we cease to exist?" she says, smiling coyly. "Dammit, Joe!" she yells. "I can hear you whispering! Fuck, you're such an asshole! I'm going to work. I'll see you later." She opens the door. "Emma!" She looks back at me. Her face, is it exhaustion I see? She steps outside. I believe in you. She closes the door. .-. .-. / \ .-. .-. / \ / \ / \ .-. _ .-. / \ / \ `-------\-------/-----\-----/---\---/-\---/---\-----/-----\-------/-------' \ / \ / `-' `-' \ / \ / \ / `-' `-' \ / `-' `-' 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 #263-11/16/03 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. By Canadians. And a couple Others.