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     |  ___________     _/_/       | |  \ \       _/_/       ___________  |
     | |              _/_/_____    | |   > >    _/_/_____               | |
     | |             /________/    | |  / /    /________/               | |
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     | |      c   o   m   m   u   n   i   c   a   t   i   o   n   s     | |
     | |________________________________________________________________| |
     |____________________________________________________________________|

  ...presents...                     The End
                                                         by Obscure Images

                      >>> a cDc publication.......1989 <<<
                        -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
_______________________________________________________________________________


        He threw off his worn leather jacket and threw it onto the floor, the
chains clanging as they hit.  He walked over to his turntable and put a Crass
album into motion.  He began to undress and get ready for bed.  He toyed with
the scars on his thin, pale forearm and then picked up his book.  He read for a
while until he was angry enough to set the book back down.  He went over to his
dresser to grab a different shirt, when he stopped to look in the mirror.  He
looked at his thin, muscular body with his hateful brown eyes.  He ran his
fingers through his large mohawk, causing his hair to fall in long ropelike
clumps of hair.  He looked at himself again, chuckled softly, and laid back
down on the bed.  "Defense!  Shit!  It's nothing less than war, and no one but
the government knows what the fuck it's for!"  There was a pounding on his door
that he ignored.  He picked up the book with one hand, and fingered the small
automatic pistol resting underneath his pillow.  His door burst open in a
shower of splinters, and a pair of police officers rushed in.

        "Gerald Johnson, you are under arrest for crimes against the state,"
said one of the officers.

        Gerald set the Bakunin book down and said, "Fuck you, pig."  As he said
the words his hand whipped from under the pillow, firing the gun at the police
officers.  The gun fired 6 times before it was silent.  The police officers
were crumpled on the floor amongst the trash.  Gerald walked out of the room,
leaving the Crass album to guide them to hell.  "Do they owe us a living?  Of
course they do, of course they do.  Do they owe us a living?  Of course they
fucking do!"

  _   _   _____________________________________________________________________
/((___))\|The Convent..........619/475-6187  The Dead Zone.........214/522-5321
 [ x x ] |Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362  Greenpeace's IGB......916/673-8412
  \   /  |PURE NIHILISM........517/337-7319  The Switchboard.......718/358-9209
  (' ')  |Tequila Willy's GSC..209/526-3194  time centre...........312/377-0359
   (U)   |=====================================================================
  .ooM   |(c)1989 cDc communications by Obscure Images.           06/19/89-#108
\_______/|All Rights Pissed Away.

