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Them damn grinders

Posted 12 September 2002, 10.39 pm by Alexander

And their submissions. This one is from the delightful sexual deviant firebrand. Remember if you want to see your writing up here, simply email it to a staff member. We're actually looking for full time staff, so if you think you can contribute a piece at least once a week, please email me at alexander@akpcep.com.

The blank page is perhaps the most fearsome of adversaries. It offers no comfort; offers not advice. Such an enemy to creativity is the blank page. It stares at you balefully, waiting to swallow your miserable attempts at intelligence.

That first word stutters out of the pen, stumbles into a sentence. Then the story spills from nib onto the luminescent fade of white.

"The midday heat rose desolately from pools that once contained cooling dew. It seeped apathetically into the crevices in concrete deck outside of Darcy’s apartment and washed the town with that shimmer that should be magical but instead warns the intrepid Southerner of the oppression outside.

Darcy herself rose desolately from the couch, tripped over the god-awful elephant shaped coffee table and cursed her way into the kitchen. Pushing a tendril of sticky hair behind her ear, she dumped the remains of the morning’s coffee down the drain.

It occurred to her that she had been in this dystopian vision of an apartment too long. Ever since she lost her job, she’d been stranded here – living on the bounty of her “good” friend Jill. Jill was nice, very compassionate, although almost gratingly Christian and the possessor of far too many "rustic" knick-knacks. Every surface overflowed with adorable sepia toned children kissing flowers or giraffes made out of paper clips. There was even a collection of Precious Moments dolls hanging out on the mantelpiece like some kind of Children of the Corn-esque gang. Surveying her surroundings, Darcy wisely made the decision to flee."

Thinking, yet again...

Posted 12 September 2002, 1.34 am by Jake

Considering the fact that teachers are more concerned with conveying the “how”s of history as opposed to the “why”s, I sat in AP U.S. History class today, and I began to think. Before you all gasp in horror at the prospect of me thinking, let me just say that it’s usually a welcome diversion from the lack of tasks at hand.

The thoughts that began rushing through my mind like so much traffic on a highway…well, they began to bother me. Now, usually people aren’t too easily mollified by simply daydreaming, but I was genuinely worried. By now, you’re either ignoring this piece or passionately screaming “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING OF?!?!?” at your computer screen. Well, that’s a good question.

I was thinking of the future. Not the future of the world, mind you, but my own future. I began thinking of what I had to offer to the world. That was a simple answer. “All that’s humanly possible.” I began to wonder about the opportunities that I would be privy to in the future. Another easy one. “Opportunity is everywhere.”

Not to concern myself with the lives and actions of those around me, I began to think harder.

The future of mankind? A dodgy question with even less reliable answers, at best. Considering that our collective fate (as a country) relies on the decisions of our leaders. Whether sensible or the most ignorant shit ever conceived(usually the latter), we still have to deal with the consequences, as will our future generations, as will our future future generations. Taking into account the various offending acts performed by our country against others, the carelessly violent behavior with which many treat each other, along with the recent outpourings of many anti-Western ideologies, all seem to have sealed our fate as a culture. Moving on.

I began to think of the future of the world as a whole. I began to think about pollution. The tons of gunk shit out daily from our factories, the various chemicals spewed from factory smokestacks that cloud our air, the amount of forests being looted for oh-so-precious lumber, the failing standars of once-clear water, landfills worth of waste being shuffled to various sites of the world. Another lost cause. All of the radical environmentalists we once praised have become jaded sign-holders fighting an increasing uphill battle against multi-national corporations, as well as the power of the almighty dollar. Yet again, my mind wandered.

I began to think about the exponentially increasing acts of violence between humans.

I began to think about the amount of time and the various family relationships wasted due to hours in front of the idiot box, the opiate of the masses, good ol’ television.

I began to think about the terrible living standards of those in politically and economically-stunted countries.

I began to think ab….oh, fuck it.

Why think? It’s all been done before, anyways.

Maybe it’s time for something new,

Yeah, that’s it, something new.

But….what?

Reader Submission #18965

Posted 11 September 2002, 3.53 am by The_Roach

The following is a user submission from Ramus (better known as Cardinal Buffman or, more recently, Xronos). We've reached the one-year anniversary of the September 11th attack on the World Trade Center. Here's his view of the aftermath. Enjoy.

"You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else."


For those of you that don't know, this is a quote from the movie Fight Club. It's purpose is to depress the viewer, helping them get into the movie more. When I first heard it, I passed it off as nothing more than just that.

Of course, this was all pre-WTC attack. Before the surging wave of patriotism. Yes, I was wrong. We are not unique. We're all just a copy of a copy of a copy. Each one standing up, boldly say how much we love this country. And why? Because others are doing it, and everyone wants to be with the "In Crowd".

I can honestly say, I've never seen a more brainwashed, blind country in my entire life. After the WTC everyone put up flags, bumper stickers, whatever; just as long as it had something to do with how great America is. Now, I realize it is their right to be patriotic, but it's all done for the wrong reasons. Since the attack I've heard way too many people talking about how horrible the Arabs are, how they spend their days thinking of new ways to kill civilian Americans, and how killing civilians is wrong no matter what. We bomb their cities, kill civilians, and nobody bats an eye.

Of course, this is not the first time in history we've done this. After the attack on Pearl Harbor, an attack killing 2,403 military personnel, we decided to attack Japan. After fighting them back to the area surrounding Japan, we decided to go for Japan itself. We had two options, one was to storm Tokyo which had a probable death toll of about 10,000 US Soldiers; or option two, drop bombs on two cities, killing about 350,000 Japanese civlians.

Well, of course American lives are more valuable than those dirty "Japs" so let's save as many of our fighting men as possible by killing their women and children. That sure sounds like honor to me. [/sarcasm]

Fortunately for Afganistan, it seems we're getting bored with or current war against "terrorism" and wish to pursue a more substantial war against Iraq. That way, at least we'll know when we're winning.

Yeah, a war on terrorism is a joke. Terrorism isn't a country, it's an idea. You can fight a country that supports terrorism, but you can fight terrorism itself. And as long as someone has something another person else wants, terrorism will always exist. And sadly, so will blind patriotism.

Synesthesia

Posted 10 September 2002, 4.27 pm by Sickan

People are all represent different lifestyles, smells, colours, numbers, letters.
All in all numerous things that defines and categorizes people when I see them. It is not easy to explain when I have to. I mean its no easy task to explain how your mind works.
Well my minds is as mentioned based on different things like numbers and colours.

For instance the number 9 is red. Every time I look or think of the number 9 the colour red pops up in my mind. 537 is some blueish-greenish-yellowish colour. But the numbers are not defined as 5 being blue, 3 being green and 7 as yellow. Its not that simple. 5 is normally brown, 3 is a deep purple colour and 7 is light black, almost dark grey.

Every number has its own colour, but sometimes they have the same, and therefore I can have some troubles with math. Heh…
Then there are the persons, they are all a mix of it all.

Let me try a good example; my very good friend Dan.
Let me try and tell you what he feels like in my mind.
Oki... I can only do this because he asked me a lot of questions about it. Hehe.
Erhm well he taste a bit like dirt smells... like dry dirt. So when I see him, hear his voice or meet him on the net that is the taste I feel. He has a clear blue colour in my mind. His number is 3 and he smells like a springday.

Now I have tried to research on this matter, and I discovered that a lot of people have this – in small or big amounts. I will copy-paste a section I found on the net.


"What??
Synaesthesia is a little-known and rather poorly-understood condition in which two or more senses mingle into one. One of the most common forms is the experience of colors linked to words, letters and numbers. Synaesthetes of this type experience written and spoken language as a rush of color associations. Others can see music, smell colors, or even taste words. Most synaesthetes think nothing of these associations and initially assume that everyone experiences them. As a result, many of them can vividly recall the moment they realized that they were different.


According to current theory, synaesthesia is a genetic condition produced by a dominant gene on the X chromosome. This explains observed patterns of inheritance in families of synaesthetes. It is believed most people are born with neural connections between the sensory areas of the brain which are eventually lost. Synaesthetes retain these connections into adulthood. Researchers also believe that these connections do not involve higher cortical functions. According to one estimate, approximately 1 in 25000 people experience some form of synaesthesia.

Who
Synaesthesia is not usually experienced as a disability. Synaesthetes are fully functioning individuals of high intelligence. They often have excellent memories, sometimes aided by their synaesthetic associations. More women than men seem to be affected, and a high proportion are left handed or ambidextrous. Some have trouble telling left from right and have a poor sense of direction. Others experience minor difficulties with mathematics. Synaesthetes sometimes report frequent experiences of deja vu, clairvoyance, or precognitive dreams."


Thank you Synesthesia.com.

Now are any of you like that??
I’m just wondering.

Peace

Self Righteous Mother Fucker

Posted 8 September 2002, 2.50 am by Villager

Are we really any better? I don't necessarily mean the populace of a country, but rather the controlling minority - Government, Press, Big Business. People, after all, and your fellow countrymen and women. Years ago it would have taken the form of Cold War, the moral struggle against EVIL Communism and their EVIL plans for world domination and the destruction of everything we hold dear. Things have moved on a little since then, but I've lost count of the number I've been reading British newspapers or extracts from significant American observings and heard Communism referred to as EVIL. Is it? How can a system of government based on equality be evil? It may not work, but if it's perverted by evil men that's poor grounds for hating the system. It may just be poor journalism, but it's destructively so. But we don't worry about that, do we? Nothing has changed in the Bush Wars. EVIL Al-Queda, EVIL Ousama bin Laden, EVIL Saddam Hussein. I do not necessarily contest the truth behind that issue given the track record of these men, but the ignorant label in substitute of intelligent information serves to ingratiate citizens with relatively unfounded hate and prejudice of something they know nothing of save what they are told to believe.

In Israel, Iraq, pre-Bush Afghanistan, it will have been the same. If you can't explain your reasons for wanting war and hatred of others - or still less you don't have any to explain - call them EVIL, 'cos everyone understand EVIL and how GOOD - a role obviously played by us - must triumph over this EVIL, through whatever means necessary. The repetition of the term 'weapons of mass destruction' by various statesmen strikes a worrying chord with me. One gets the impression we are supposed to grasp ahold of that term and give our support to defeat this EVIL. Many do. Of course, once claimed, the moral high ground is a very useful weapon itself.

Is Saddam doing anything different from GWB right now? Showing the right cheek and courting allies across the globe? Using emotive language, invoking patriotism and hatred of those pigeonholed EVIL people we MUST defeat? Loyal Iraqis are likely in a very very similar frame of mind and thought right now as Loyal Bush supporters. Both men have immediate access to weapons capable of killing millions. Note recent revelations that uncle George's lawyers are telling him doesn't need further Congressional approval to wage war on Iraq. An unfairly elected man has the power of God, the lives of thousands and thousands in his sweaty hands. These are the characteristics of a dictator, not a democrat acting through his country. Is war the way to resolve these conflicts? Is the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of innocent, Patriotic lives worth the testosterone fuelled duel between a handful of men? Are we really so basic as to be unable to find another way? Oh no, I forgot, millions of ordinary people don't matter, do they?

As long as GOOD (us, of course) defeat EVIL (them, of course), everything's fucking peachy.

Grinder Submission

Posted 5 September 2002, 12.05 am by Villager

This is a user submission from uw_writer. Critique required.

_ _ _

It was seven years ago today that I made the choice that has placed my feet on the path I now walk. I am sitting now with a bottle of one hundred and ninety proof brain cell killer, ninety five percent alcohol. This stuff is strong enough to peel paint off walls, and I choose to drink it.
I'm an alcoholic. I've always enjoyed drinking, it started in college, but it didn't get this way until I started work on graduation. It wasn't right away that my problem started, it took about a year for that to get as bad as it is now. For three years now I've been drinking a bottle all by myself everyday I get back from a successful day on the job. It started out as a simple drink after work, or on my anniversary like today. But it progressively got worse, now I seem to drink all the time, every night I get drunk so I won't dream.
You see, I'm an assassin.
My job demands a certain set of moral values that include the disregard for human life. By god's will or a certain set of particular genetics, I was born with such values. I never tried to understand why I am the way I am, I just chose to capitalize on it.
The first shot burns it's way down my throat, and even after three year of hard drinking, my stomach still rebels and my mouth waters in anticipation of the shot coming back up. I don't care what my stomach has to say, I take another two shots in a row and wait for the alcohol to work it's magic.
Seven years ago today I made my decision to become an assassin, seven years ago today the world trade center buildings were destroyed by terrorists. Today is September eleventh and I'm celebrating my fourth year as a professional killer. Seven years ago today I decided that people like those terrorists needed to be deprived of their most precious commodity.
Their life.
Of course I figured the person doing the depriving should also get paid to do so. I figured I might as well be the one being paid, my morals could make me a bundle with the proper training.
I'm starting to feel light headed already from all the shots I've done. At least half the bottle is gone and I must have drank about ten shots. My arms are tingly and feel like pins and needles, but all numb and they feel so heavy. I reach for the bottle to take another shot, but the shot glass gets knocked onto the floor and shatters. Too bad, I'll just have to drink straight out of the bottle, maybe I'll finally get alcohol poisoning and die in my sleep.
I only manage a couple more gulps of the liquor before I start to drift into unconsciousness, I only hope that I won't dream tonight. I can live with the killing, it doesn't bother me at all, it's just that the nightmares won't let the people I've killed rest in peace.
And those people won't let me rest either, not for many years to come I don't believe.

Intravenous Salvation

Posted 1 September 2002, 4.03 pm by Jake

Hm. Faith.

There's been a thread started on this recently, and I began thinking about my beliefs.

I guess I can honestly admit to know the actual truth and the right way......

that I don't know what I believe in, to be quite honest.

I put a good bit of stock in the annals of science, because I think that science is (mostly) tangible truths that can be proven or disproven a lot easier than any religion.

I was born on this earth as a result of two people's reproductive systems, I believe that we all arose from the primordial soup as unicellular organisms and we evolved from there....some people slam evolution as being idealistic, saying that if species are in a constant state of improvement, that it has to have a pinnacle beyond that of humans...but hey, that's just one of my beliefs, leave me alone.

I was born without a religious inclination, was baptized as an Episcopalian, went to an Episcopal private school for roughly eight years, and then defected to public school after growing bored of the atmosphere there...I can say that DID help (to a degree) to change my perspectives on religion, and maybe one day I will become satisfied with a certain set of beliefs.

I believe that there is no true way to live, that most religions are based on people's lack of answers for many of life's questions and that it is truly impossible to live vicariously through some re-hashed prophetic nonsense that proclaims to be "the right way".

I believe that there is a sense of spirituality in nature, that there could very well be spirits that influence our daily lives, and that there could possibly even be a god/a few gods. I enjoy the nature of Eastern religions, those that speak of enlightenment and oneness, because they are interlaced with tradition and morals, as well as betterment of the self through your actions. Compared to the boorish nature of many Western religions (Catholicism, for example), these seem more inviting and rational.

I believe in morals, and doing good deeds for the sake of yourself as well as others. I like the idea of being able to sleep at night without putting my faith in a divine being to fix everything for me...going out and taking care of it myself or even getting help from friends to solve my problems is much more rewarding.

I believe that I have no clue as to what awaits us once we cross into the afterlife, I don't claim to know anything of that. Maybe Anubis is there, waiting to weigh my evil deeds against a feather...maybe there's nothing, maybe I'll be reincarnated in a different form.

As for now, I put most of my faith in the fact that I know nothing.

ODDLY ALONE…

Posted 28 August 2002, 10.04 pm by Sickan

Arriving to this new town and just being alone without really being alone is odd. I moved away from the people who have surrounded me for so many years, good as bad. They have all been there for me and I for them – but problems tend to repeat themselves, a bit like history. At a point they had just repeated themselves too many times – I had repeated myself one too many times. They asked the same questions, claimed answers and I gladly answered in brilliant unclear terms.

So anyway now I have done what we humans need to do at times. Get away from it all, run from it all you may call it. I have been here in this strange new town for somewhat five days now, and I decided to go to a pub and feel the pulse – I am actually sitting here right now, as I write these sentences. New faces are looking at this new girl who walked in with her paper and pencil, ordered a beer and sat down and began writing. It took some convincing myself to go here before I did it. No easy thing to do after all, or apparently… but now I can do nothing but laugh of those thoughts.

The pub is called ‘Maybe not Bob’ and is quite comfy and somewhat friendly. There are a handful people here – just about 15 – 20 and they are all smiling and probably drunk as it suits you to be on a Friday night on the local pub. The walls are painted green and they are one side covered in bookshelves. The classical collection of all types and brands of beer are put up on the opposite wall. The benches and wooden tables are giving the pub an old and classic look. The only thing which are a constant source to irritation is the pressing and moist heat. But the pub nor I can do anything about that.

The crowd is now increasing and people have begun to go to my table to sit – simply because there are no other place for them to be. They try not to seem interested in that I’m doing – this is sadly too obviously.
In some way I don’t want them to interrupt my writing or would I want to contact me, because I feel happy and I rest in myself. I don’t think I have ever felt like this before – it is like I am alone perhaps lonely but still I have never felt this calm and eased before.
What I can see from this one visit to this place is the remarkable difference from the city I inhabited before and this one. People here are far more open and friendly, they seen somewhat more alive. This can be coloured by the fact that I have lived in the town for too long and have a bunch of really bad memories from that hell-hole.
Well now I will go and leave these people to their drinking. There are still books to be read and stories to tell before I begin to make new friends here. There is time enough for us all… and my time will come. That is what I discovered by being there tonight and write this for all of you. My time will come, there is no need for me to rush.

-Peace.

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Doggybag/baggy_dog is an artist living and working in Barga, Italy. Click here to read about this piece in his own words.


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Props to Green Mamba for bringing the weirdness

Hmph

80s candy bars were pretty good

only because i traded it for a candy bar in the 80's.

lol we all know you don't have a soul ghoti

my soul for some carbs...

But of course!

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