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the boy with no name

Posted 30 March 2002, 2.58 am by Villager

A torrent of abuse. The skin began to burn under the sun's fire as stones and various hard objects landed with a blunt, dull whack. It wasn't so much the impact as the surge of pain that followed each blow. Blind with panic, stumbling. Stumbling anywhere that seemed to offer respite from the biting blows. Starving, hungry and lost from logical thought. Indeed, thoughts seemed to dart randomly from one thing to the next. Faces, voices, places. Pain.

It was a normal day, the sun shone, the birds sang and the minutes strolled their way past, with a remote ambience that gave a sense of belonging. She had just collected the washing in and was preparing lunch, something she would always look forward to. Everyone was generally in good spirits at midday, and her service was all the more cheerfully received. Soon the men would come in, shed their overcoats and slump into the warmth offered by the family living room.

Fallen. Crumpled in a broken mass the blows rained in all the more heavily, with lightening piercing the skull and rocks crunching bone underfoot. After a time things subsided, there was no pain and there was no shouting. All he could see was white, and there was a warm, dense taste in the air. For a moment his mind wandered a few years lighter, of little sisters and ball games. Of Church.

"Is it ready?", Elizabeth scorned. A nod of the head sufficed, no longer injured by the House Mistress' coarse tongue. Idly pushing the trolley towards the dining room, she let slip a small smile at the prospect of seeing him tonight. Their meetings were her life's golden lining, she lived for what they had. The room was empty. After a time, the children filtered in and took up their seats, followed by the elder members and the mother, they all wore long faces. Hearing distant voices, attention turned outside. The children rushed to the window.

At the far side of the town a group of men were huddled by the Court. Theresa followed everyone else, eager to see what had stoked such fervour among the people. Once the dust had settled a macabre silence descended over the crowd. It had happened again. The pitiful sight they looked down on was the beaten body of a local boy, possibly one of the slaves. She cried out. Almost before she realised the fate of it all she felt her heart disintegrate. Dropped to her knees, crying. Nobody dared comfort her. She had betrayed those who gave her most, and sinned against The Lord.

XXX

Posted 30 March 2002, 1.19 am by Villager

This here is all you ever wanted to know about the Beautiful Game (sex).

Certainly not suitable for children.

Posted in nothing but the interests of AKpCEP's education.

Feeling Helpless

Posted 29 March 2002, 5.41 pm by Alexander

This is a reader submission from Alamias

When you spend a good portion of your life with someone, and then they leave you what should your reaction be? Should you be mad? Should you be sad? Should you feel like a failure or all of these things?

Well, from experience I can say you feel all of the above.

After those feelings all subside, you try to move on...but what happens when the person that left you calls for help all the time?

"I need $500 dollars or I am going to be evicted" was what was said to me a few minutes ago.

What do you do when the woman that rips out your heart calls you and asks for help. You think you would probably laugh at her, and tell her where to stick it right?

Where it not for the fact that this woman has your two children with her, I would agree with you. When the fact your two offspring are sharing in this mess that she has created for herself, you can't help but want to help...for their sake. You want the best for your kids, and you want to help them any way you can.

Except you don't have the money. There is nothing you can do. So now what?

Do you feel helpless? Do you say, "She made her bed, let her lie in it?"

It's a hard position to be in.

Some of you would say take the kids from her. To this I say I know that the kids are honestly better off with their mother.

Do you try to somehow raise the money, knowing there is no way you can?

Do you accept the fact that your ex and the kids might end up moving 3000 miles away to live with her parents, where they wouldn't have to worry about such matters, but then you wouldn't see your kids as often as you like? A tough reality to accept.

What do you do? There is no easy answer. All of them lead to feeling helpless in the situation. You want to help...but you can't. You want to be there for them...but you aren't able to be.

It's almost like watching a train approaching a stranded car on the tracks, knowing there are people inside, but you know you can't reach them in time...all in slow motion.

You see the outcome before it even happens...and there is nothing you can do to change it.

The greatest game in the world??

Posted 29 March 2002, 12.04 pm by Jake

Alright. You all remember the old classic Pong...sitting at the Atari with those annoying paddle controllers, listening to that monotonous "bonk....bonk.....bonk.....bonk". Well, this is pretty much the same, but in 3-D!!!! It gets pretty intense, but it's a good way to waste time whilst downloading porn.....
(Sorry for all of the ellipses, I haven't had any coffee yet.)

http://www.liquid.se/pong

Impending....

Posted 28 March 2002, 11.58 pm by Jake

He saw it. It soared around like an eagle, peaked, and began its menacing descent. His pulse began to race. His nerves pounded and screamed with adrenaline. "Goddamn it,"he said. Ignoring the angry shouts of his coworkers, he started to run. Down the stairs, out of the building, into the avenue. He was the only one there. The streets were deserted. Thoughts darted throughout his mind. "Why? Where? How?" Confusion and panic set in. "How long....do I have?" He started to run again. Only this time, he ran toward it. He sprinted for miles. His muscles burned and his heart pumped gasoline. After a while, he collapsed to the asphalt in a gasping, heaving mess. His lungs seared and his senses kicked into overdrive. All the sights became clearer, the air thicker with the smell of coal. The concrete was more tangible, the atmosphere crackled with a maniacal static. He tasted the humidity as he lay there panting. It had stopped. It hovered over the city like a raincloud.

His pupils enlarged to seize the object of vision.

God Bless America

Posted 27 March 2002, 7.09 am by The_Roach

This is one of the most interesting pro-liberal websites I have ever encountered. Being a conservative republican who actually voted for Bush, I found this site to be extremely funny. While I'm not entirely alone in that, the majority of the people who have replied in their "Feedback" section are either confusing the above linked website with this one, or are equally as clever as the writers.

My money's on the former, by the way.

Forgetting Prehistory

Posted 26 March 2002, 8.00 pm by Jake

I was poring over Roach's newest and thought about the teaching of history in general. Prehistory is a topic that is largely ignored by many teachers. Even if they do teach anything about it, they only spend enough time on the subject to leave you with a vague grasp of what happened. I have no idea why they would treat this event as unimportant. Seeing how early mankind developed would be quite interesting, if you ask me. Maybe they just want to save all of that shit for when you go to college and take anthropology. Maybe it's just a gray area that nobody wants to cover because of evolution. Either way, most history classes seem to begin with the practice of agriculture in Mesopotamia, with little or no emphasis on prehistory. Go figure..
Just happens to be another one of those things that make you want to stomp, shout and scream in front of your local school board about their ignorance and neglect.

ARTARTARTART

Posted 26 March 2002, 6.45 am by Berly

Three sites for your amusement, or not. I'm not sure exactly. Recommended by some of my artistically talentend friends, I give you:

Brittle Bones

Glaznost

Nooflat

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They were done for an exhibition a couple of years ago . They asked for something to so with the summer. They are mixed media and oil paint on metal advertising boards - for ice cream.


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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!

Yo ! Does this work ?

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