   --------------------------------------------------------------------------

   mmmmmmmmmm$$$$ .s&$P""""7$&s. $$$$"""""7$&s. s$$$P"""""$&s. .s&$P""""7$&s.
   gggg      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ ggggp****q$$$$ `7$$bmmmmmgggg
   $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ gggg      $$$$
   tMM$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$
   $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$
   $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$ $$$$      $$$$
   `7$$bmmmmd$$P' `7$$bmmmmd$$P' $$$$      $$$$ `7$$bmmmmd$$$$ `7$$bmmmmd$$P'

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------

         Jonas E'Zine, Volume 2, Issue 6 (C) 1996 by Jonas Productions,
    all rights reserved.  Copyrights to stories, articles, and illustrations
        are the property of their creators, unless otherwise noted.  The
       contents of this publication may not be reproduced in whole or in
       part without consent of the copyright owner.  Jonas may be freely
            distributed as long as this notice remains in place, and
                     no fee is charged for it's retrieval.

                       look at me, I can write a melody,
                       but I can't expect a soul to care.
                   Superdrag / "Who Sucked Out The Feeling?"

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Jonas E'Zine Volume 2, Issue 6                             August 28, 1996

   Contents:

     (1) - Edicius' Editorial
     (2) - How I Got This Way [essay] - by Big Hurt
     (3) - Adios Fidel [essay] - by Eightball
     (4) - Discriminate Perceptions [essay] - by Jestapher
     (5) - Fight [essay] - by Mercuri
     (6) - The Skirt Incident [story] - by Edicius
     (7) - The All But The Kung-Fu Class [story] - by Ben Ohmart
     (8) - Poetry - various writers
     (9) - Reviews

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (1) - Edicius' Editorial

   I really wish I didn't over-think and over-analyze every single facet of
   my existence.  To me, everything is symbolic of something much bigger,
   something much grander.

   Tonight, I shaved.

   "BIG DEAL"

   Well, kinda, sorta.  It's a big deal to me.  Not because of the fact that
   I nicked myself in about 10 places.  No, it's the fact that I shaved my
   goatee off.

   Now, my goatee and I had a special bond.  Since June, everywhere I went
   was with my goatee.  It's been with me for the entire Summer.  This
   Summer has been one of, if not the greatest Summers of my entire life.
   I've met new people, I've gone to new places, I've been out and doing new
   things, and I've just had a great time this year.

   To me, my goatee was symbolic of the last visible reminder of this truly
   fantastic Summer.  As I said, it was with me through every single thing
   I've done this Summer.  Concerts, parties, friends; all of them were
   witness to my goatee.

   I've met people this Summer for the first time.  I've had people tell me
   that I could pass for a 19 year-old.  Now, I don't know if those people
   were just stupid, or were just trying to make an ass of me, but the thing
   that counts most is, I liked how my goatee looked.  But now, it's gone.
   Cut off in a flash of sheers and blades over my bathroom sink.

   Why did I cut it off?  Well, that wasn't my own call.  In just over a
   week, I'll be starting school again.  The fact that I go to a private
   Catholic school means I have to abide by their dress codes.  They don't
   allow any facial hair, even sideburns have to be kept reasonably short.

   So, I had to do it; sooner or later.

   Alas, the pieces all fall into place.  I'm going to bed earlier now, I'm
   finishing my Summer reading list, and I'm getting all the shit I need for
   school.  The pieces fall into place, in front of my disbelieving face.

   I look towards the next few months as a turning point.  I seriously don't
   know what the hell is going to go on between now and the end of the year.
   I don't know how well I'll be able to handle a social life, school, and
   all the work I do on the computer.  Down the road, I look to getting a
   job.. and further down the road, I wouldn't mind having a girlfriend.  You
   throw those things into a mix, and things are bound to get severely fucked
   up.

   I'm looking towards having an interesting year in school.  I'm going to be
   taking some harder classes, most important is my AP US History class.  I
   need to do very good this year, I'm a Junior this year.  I want to do
   good; but I don't know how well I'll do.  I want to do good, but I also
   want to have fun and do all the stuff I've been doing this Summer.  In my
   heart, I know what's right.  But, what's right isn't what makes me happy.
   Thus, we have conflict.

   I don't want this Summer to end.  I want everything to be the same.  I
   want to go to bed when everyone else is waking up; I want to wake up when
   everyone else is getting home from work.  I want to geek on the computer
   for days at a time without taking a shower.  I want to talk to the people
   I like to do what I want to do.

   My bathroom sink is clogged with hair, my face looks fatter, and my Summer
   draws to a close.

   I need to stop over-analyzing everything.

   -----

   Man oh man.  Don't you hate it when you copy something to a disk, and then
   give that disk to a friend, but it turns out that the disk that you gave
   him wasn't the disk with the stuff you coped for him, but in actuality
   it was a disk full of pornographic pictures?  Man, that just SUCKS.

   They were some of my favorite pictures, too.

   -----

                          --- SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT ---

   Jonas is proud to announce that we were selected to participate in an
   exhibition of youth media that will be taking place at the New Museum of
   Contemporary Art, in New York City, over the coming months.  We ask that
   anyone that is able to attend this exhibition does so, for it is sure to
   be a very unique event.

   Below is the full press release that was issued by the New Museum
   explaining the exhibition and related information.

   -----

   alt.youth.media

   September 6-November 5, 1996 organized by The New Museum of Contemporary
   Art, 583 Broadway (between Prince and Houston), New York, New York  10012
   P: 212-219-1222  E-mail: newmuseum@thorn.net

   No other generation has been more thoroughly schooled in media culture and
   the use of media technologies than today's youth.  They are not only
   consuming media, but also actively transforming and producing a new media
   landscape.  alt.youth.media presents computer, video, audio and print
   media projects by and about teens and young adults that offer alternatives
   to representations of youth culture prevalent in mainstream media.
   Community, cultural identity, dating, sexuality, gangs, family, school
   environment, and violence are among the topics explored by young media
   artists working independently and in collaboration with adult artists,
   educational programs, and media arts organizations.

   The exhibition includes:

   Photography series by Adrienne Salinger entitled "In My Room: Teenagers in
   Their Bedrooms"

   Video programs including "Some Girls in the Hood" by young women from the
   Allegheny School, "Youth on Racism: I Dare You to Cross This Line"
   produced by Community TV Network in Chicago, and "The Prejudice Project:
   Attitudes Toward Panhandling" by KYTES in Canada.

   Two video installations:   "Video Machete", a Chicago-based media
   collective of community activists, video producers, and gang members,
   presenting first person accounts of gang incidents, and the politics and
   culture of gangs in Chicago and "Conversation Piece" by Julia Meltzer and
   Catherine Saalfield in collaboration with youth from The Safety Zone, a
   drop-in center for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered youth, and
   from the youth-producers at Bent TV and the Hetrick Martin Institute.

   Several computer terminals will provide visitors access to over twenty
   e-zines including "gURL," "geekgrrrl," "Jonas," "rant," "boing boing," and
   "Spank" and to CD-ROM's like "Teenage Transgression," "The Censorship
   Project," and "Lies, Lies, Lies."

   An audio center will offer a listening lounge and an area for a variety of
   hands-on activities such as the recording and mixing of original tapes
   using a computer for digitized sound capability, a "broadcast" of a mix of
   previously recorded programming including interviews, talk shows, DJ sound
   mixes, and investigative reports on topical news entirely from a youth
   perspective, and "live" broadcast slots where hosts will be available in
   the Center and throughout the galleries to engage with and interview
   visitor in talk-show format on cultural subjects of interest to youth
   represented in the exhibition.

   A display and reading area of over 120 youth-oriented zines including
   "Crap Hound," "Plotz," "Bamboo Girl," "Flatter!,"  "Thrift Score," "Caught
   in Flux," "Double Negative," and "Psycho Moto Mini Zine."   A zine
   production area  will include a copy machine, graphics supplies, and clip
   art for visitors to create their own zines.

   -----

   Jonas would like to thank Melanie Franklin and the New Museum of
   Contemporary Art for selecting Jonas to participate in this event.

   -----

   Jonas would also like to thank Jestapher of Oblivion Magazine.  Not only
   is he a great writer, but he's also a great web designer.  He redid the
   Jonas web site, and it looks great.  Thanks, Ben!

   I redid my homepage, too.  Check it out at http://www.cybercomm.net/~edi/
   and learn everything you don't want to know about me.

   I've published more poetry this issue, because I like poetry.  If you
   don't like it, don't read it.  If you'd like to submit some of your good
   poetry, then email me.

   Otherwise, have a great day.  Enjoy Jonas, and email me what you think
   about Jonas.

   Until next issue..

   -- Tom Sullivan/Edicius

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (2) - How I Got This Way - by Big Hurt

   Well there has been many events in my life that brought me to where I am
   today. In the last couple of months I've felt that I've become smarter and
   more aware. I've become stronger.

   I was at the hotel just about to leave from Tucson with the baseball team.
   We had lost two days before, so we didn't play the day before in the
   tournament. I stayed out late with the team and didn't go to bed until
   three in the morning. I was in the parking lot, when my baseball coach
   told me that my mom called that night. I called her and she said she was
   checking up on me and there was nothing wrong.

   So I got in the truck with one of my team mates and their mom. I slept in
   the back, along with another team mate. I didn't sleep that much. I was
   mostly thinking of what could be wrong. Was I in trouble? Did something
   happen to the house?

   I arrived back at my house, where I was dropped off in the afternoon. I
   went in the house and put my stuff in my room. My mom was sitting on the
   couch waiting for me. She told me to sit down and I did like she asked.
   She told me bad news of my Uncle Ray passing away with a little sadness in
   her voice. I didn't know what to say.

   But as strong as my mom was, she already called my work for me and said
   that I wouldn't be in until that Friday. Then she called my coach for me
   and said I would miss any practices and games that week. She had me talk
   to my dad. He gave me a talk and some advise and told me to be strong and
   take care of my mom. Then my encourage me to go do something with my
   friend, Steve Heck. I did and I talked about life. I really think that my
   mom wanted to be alone for a little bit longer, before we left that next
   morning.

   We I came back that night from my friends house, I packed all of my stuff
   and double checked it. I went to bed that night and dreamt things that
   have long passed my mind.

   My mom and I left for the airport on Tuesday, the following day, and
   arrived two hours later in Oklahoma. My mom got a rent a car and we
   traveled over 100 miles to Blackwell, Oklahoma. We went to my Uncle Ray's
   house and saw his wife and the rest of my family, including my aunts,
   uncles, and cousins I haven't seen for a long period.

   It was like a reunion. We went to the memorial service that afternoon on
   Tuesday. It happened to the Fourth Of July and that evening I spent time
   with my cousins. Some of them I haven't seen since I was one years old and
   the other ones it was seven years since the last time I saw them. We
   talked and walked around and lite off fireworks. I didn't know them that
   well, so I didn't know how to relate that much. But we managed to get
   along.

   The next day we meet at the local church and had the funeral. Everyone was
   quite. There was so many sad faces. There was so many people crying,
   mostly family members, like my mom's sisters. It was indeed a sad morning.
   I even saw my own mom cry. Something I've hardly ever seen. Though it was
   a sad event, it was a good one. At least for me.

   But, one thing I regret, is that I talked to my cousins, when they needed
   me. I saw my cousins Jennifer and Melissa crying. They knew Uncle Ray
   better than me. I never met the man, which is another thing I regret. I
   wish I met the man. But the town people and his family said he was a great
   man. I'm sure I would have liked him.

   Later on, everyone met for lunch. I talked with cousins, but still felt
   like I wasn't fitting in with them. So I talked to a few people my mom
   knew and that we stayed with the night before. I couldn't stand staying
   with the people my chose to stay with, but my mom and I did anyway.

   That day we went swimming and had fun while I was there. Spent even more
   time with my cousins and saw my cousins from Sterling, Colorado for the
   last time on the trip. I wanted to see them the next morning, but my mom
   said that we missed them. I cried for so long. I even wrote some songs and
   poetry.

   But, I stayed strong, not letting anyone know that I cried and went to the
   house that my Uncle Ray lived in with his wife. That morning we saw off my
   cousins from Texas and the rest of my family. I was sad, but managed not
   to cry.

   That day I didn't do much. Just stayed around and talked to the people
   that actually lived in Oklahoma. My Uncle Steve, took us to where he was
   staying and let us spend the night. I stayed up late, looking at pictures
   with my mom and Uncle Steve. Then later that night, when I was the only
   one up, I wrote songs all night about my anger and sadness. I cried for
   the last time on the trip.

   The next morning, which would be Friday, we left early, so we could make
   our trip back to the Oklahoma City airport, which was over 100 miles away.
   We made the flight back and I got home safe. I wrote all of my cousins
   that I saw in Oklahoma, but none of them ever wrote back to me.

   I finally heard from my Aunt Bernice in Sterling, Colorado, when my mom
   called her and found out that my cousin Nick was in trouble.

   I still plan on traveling to Sterling, Colorado with a friend to visit
   them next summer. That should be a good experience also, but last summers
   event made me very strong. I can tolerate a lot more. It made me be able
   to write more songs, about my true feelings. It has made me be able to
   keep a journal and write about my deepest secrets and feelings, which I
   just started a few months back. I feel the event will soon bring me closer
   to my cousins, which I haven't seen much over the years, since of the
   tensions that lay between my mom and her sisters.

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (3) - Adios Fidel - by Eightball

   Like all revolutions, yours started with idealism and noble purpose. The
   American Revolution led to the Alien and Sedition Acts a dozen years
   later. The French Revolution to overthrow the oppression of the ruling
   class led to mass murder by the guillotine.  Dr. Castro, you succeeded in
   overthrowing the incredibly corrupt Batista regime and its cohorts, the
   mafia casino owners. You lifted the people of Cuba out of grinding
   poverty.  You righted the criminal injustice perpetrated by Batista and
   his henchmen.  You provided free education and medical care to the working
   class of Cuba.  It was a revolutionary step forward.

   You rid the country of the crime bosses that ran the casinos and robbed
   the common people.  You even came to the United States to make friends
   with the American people.  Unfortunately, your political understanding of
   public relations was naive at best.  You faced two problems that you could
   never surmount in the U.S.  First, you did not understand that Socialism
   does not sell here.  Second, the Cuban wealthy classes, having fled to the
   U.S., staged a brilliant public relations campaign against you.  You were
   painted bright red.

   At the height of the Cold War, having a "Communist" within 90 miles of
   American soil was just unacceptable. So, Dr. Castro, you threw in your lot
   with the Soviet Union and kept your revolution afloat.  But as we all
   know, the Russians never give away anything for free.  In exchange for
   millions of rubels, you permitted them to establish missile bases on your
   own soil.  The following Cuban Missile Crisis almost led to World War III,
   an irreconcilable gash between the Americans and you.

   With the collapse of your Soviet supporters, your economic situation is
   untenable.  Guaranteed medical care means nothing when your hospitals
   cannot purchase medicine from abroad.  The poverty of the masses cannot be
   improved by simply eliminating the high income group.

   As all revolutions before have shown, power corrupts even the most noble
   minded.  To hold onto power and use scapegoats, you have established a
   secret police, political prisons, censorship, and all the other trappings
   of dictatorship.  It is sad that the long suffering Cuban people have not
   had a chance to participate in the freedom and prosperity that has been
   sweeping the world.  For the sake of your people, resign now and let Cuba
   have a fresh start.

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (4) - Discriminate Perceptions - by Jestapher

   One might classify me as a "white" male American.  I am not a proud
   "white" male American.  I am not a disgraced "white" male American.  If I
   must be any type of "white" male American, I am an apathetic "white" male
   American.

   Although I may be apathetic about this unbidden status, I loathe the
   initial impression I make many a time on account of it.  Recently, I was
   at a concert.  Taking a break from the musical barrage, I ventured into
   the theater lobby.  As I stood in the lobby, I noticed two grrls handing a
   'zine to another girl, asking if she had seen it.  I approached the two
   and told them I hadn't seen their 'zine.

   "Well, it's a grrl 'zine," came the reply.

   "What's this?  Whaddya sexist?"

   "Well, I mean, it's grrl issues, you probably wouldn't be interested."

   "I'm interested in all issues."

   They gave me a copy of "Super Ninja Girl" and we parted.

   As I walked with my new 'zine, I thought about what they said.  I knew
   they had a target audience, and probably weren't trying to be sexist, but
   I couldn't get over it.

   It's about grrl issues, so I wouldn't be interested?  Why wouldn't I be
   interested?  What would I be interested in?  Why do they have a
   preconceived perception of me based on my male status?

   Who do these people think I am?  Are my hands those of the man who beat
   you and your mother?  Does my mouth speak words of the overweight
   klansman? It's quite the contrary, but how can I inform them of this
   before they make up their own minds?  I can't.

   Later on, during that concert, I had an in depth discussion with the two
   grrls.  It seems that the first words they spoke to me were a "Freudian
   slip" of sorts.  They explained that they weren't trying to be
   discriminate, but that it was more of a protection for them, because when
   most people think of a riot grrl, it's usually not in a good light.  After
   talking to them, I gained a little more respect for their passion and
   devotion, but was not impressed with the fact that for a little security,
   they would sacrifice the ideals they are supposedly trying to uphold in
   their quest for "equality."

   I don't condone anything done out of discrimination.  Even though people
   with the same "white" male status as I have fucked many people over
   because of their discrimination-dominant mindset, it lends no validity to
   others' perceptions of me based on that status.  Even though one may feel
   the desire for reparations is justified, a perception of an individual
   based on unjustified stereotypes is transgressive and hypocritical.

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (5) - FIGHT - by Mercuri

   Fact: Three out of Three people die.
   Fact: Two point Nine out of Three people never do anything worth
         mentioning.

   It's true, everybody dies.  Sure, George Burns had us hopeful there for a
   few years, but now he's dead too.  Most people have this crazy notion that
   living longer and doing nothing is better than dying for something you
   believe in.

   "The reasonable man accommodates himself to the ways of the world. The
   unreasonable man attempts to get the world to accommodate itself to his
   ways. Progress depends on unreasonable men.

                                                   - G. B. Shaw

   Fight.  You'll get plenty of rest when you're dead.

   -------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (6) - "The Skirt Incident" - by Edicius

   The two boys fixed their gazes straight across the cafeteria on a site no
   normal 15 year old guy would pass up.  Drew was carelessly taking the can
   from the soda machine; bending over at the waist is not a good thing when
   you're wearing a short skirt.  The boys waited for a sight like this,
   hopefully catching a glimpse of her underwear in the four seconds before
   she straightened herself up again and walked to the cheerleader table.

   "Man, don't you just want a piece of that?  I know I do," Brian said to
   his friend Jeff, while keeping an eye on Drew's walk across the cafeteria
   room floor.  With her sultry walk, and the way she swung her hips in a
   truly erotic fashion, girls like that should be illegal.

   She did the same thing every day.  Either bending over to pick up her Diet
   Coke can from the big red machine or bending over to pick up a small item
   that she displaced.  Then, during the course of the thirty minute lunch,
   she would do her little sultry walk, and ask for money from guys.  With an
   ass like that, almost everyone gave her money; and lots of it.  Making ten
   bucks in thirty minutes wasn't uncommon for her.  She knew what she had,
   and she used them to her fullest advantage.  Sending that whole feminist
   movement back a couple'a dozen years.

   Jeff looked into space as he ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  A
   glob of jelly fell out of the side, and made a "plop" sound as it landed.

   "So, uh.  Did you and Lisa do anything this weekend?"  Brian had a way of
   slipping things pertaining to sex into their everyday conversations.

   "Umm.  We hooked up, and I felt her up.  That was about it, I guess."

   "You're getting cheated, you know that?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "You've been going with her for two months, and she hasn't gone down on
   you once?  Man, that's lame.  I heard she fucked Gramn Morris, and she's
   given you like, uh, two handjobs?  Again I reiterate the fact, you're
   getting cheated."

   "I wish I lived in your world."

   "Are you patronizing me?"

   "Uh-huh," Jeff said with a total "you're stupid"-patronizing voice.  He
   just didn't understand Brian at times.  Brian thinks he is a gift to women.
   He's had sex a few times, and never had any problems finding a date.  So,
   he thought that everyone's relationships should be like his: short,
   meaningless, and a lot of sex.

   "I don't want _your_ types of relationships, Bri.  You and I are different
   people, even though we're good friends.  What you want in a girl, and what
   I want in a girl, is totally different."

   "What do _you_ want in a girl?"

   "I want someone I can love.  I don't care about anything sexual related.
   I want someone to be there for me, someone I can be there for.  I want
   someone who's beautiful and fucking real."

   "Down By Law, 'Ivory Girl'.  Good song."

   "Don't fuckin' change the topic on me.  I'll quote song lyrics if I want
   to."

   Brian laughed, "I love it when you get all flustered like this.  Now
   you're going to disdain me because I get pussy and you don't.  You have
   such a holier-then-thou attitude about sex, it's so unbelievable."

   "So, when I find a 'real' girlfriend, and start getting some, then I
   should come back to you and tell you how good it is?"

   "Exactly."

   "Dude, you fuckin' irritate me.  When you get a REAL girlfriend, and you
   know what it is like to love someone, then you come back to me and talk to
   me.  Otherwise, fuck off."  Jeff proceded to get up, and throw his lunch
   away.  Instead of turning around and sitting back down with Brian, he went
   and sat down with some kids he kinda knew.

   Brian, sitting in a sea of self-pity, decided that he didn't really care
   what Jeff had to say anymore.  He was tired of his condescending bullshit
   anyway.  He got up, and proudly marched to that table full of cheerleader
   chicks, and stood right behind Drew.

   "Uh.  Hi, Drew.  Um, like.  My name's Brian, would you like to go out
   sometime?"

   The table laughed in unison.

   "Go sit down, Freshman boy."

   The bell rang, and the vice-principal shouted, "ok, everybody up.  Throw
   your trash away and get to your lockers."

   ------

   The following Friday was the Spring Dance.  Jeff was eager to be going
   with Lisa, for he knew it would be such a special night.  She picked him
   up around 6:40, and they went to the dance.  He hadn't talked to Brian in
   over a week, since the day they had their cafeteria discussion.  But, as
   usual, Brian was there with some decent looking slut-girl.

   "Why haven't you talked to Bri lately?  You never told me," Lisa inquired.

   "Well, don't worry about it."

   "I want to worry about it.  You two have been good friends, and I don't
   understand why something would come between you.  It wasn't me, was it?"

   "Uh, not really."

   "Not really?"

   "Well.  Not really.  I'll tell you later, dear," he said with a quick kiss
   to her lips.  She shrugged it off, and forgot about it after a few quick
   dances.

   During one of the slow songs, near the end of the dance, Jeff looked over
   and saw that Brian had his hands all over slut-girl.  He looked down, and
   looked at Lisa, and remarked to himself how beautiful she looked.  Her
   long black hair looked better then ever tonight.  She smelled better then
   ever, something of a mixture between Eternity and CK1.  She put her head
   on his shoulder, and he nuzzled her hair with his nose.

   At the end of the song, he looked over to see what Brian was doing.  He
   caught a parting glance of him as he walked out of the door.  "Probably
   going to get fucked," he thought.

   With all the bad he would say about him, Jeff did kind of envy Brian.  He
   went around from girl to girl with no qualms.  He had sex a bunch of
   times, and was never modest about it.  Actually, it was between modesty
   and bragging, whenever he got a good chance, he would rub it in anyone's
   face whom he'd had more sex then.

   Another slow song started up, and Lisa hugged him firmly.  He looked down
   at her again, and looked at her again.  She was so beautiful.  He loved
   her so much.  He hair was tied back with a red ribbon, and she wore a
   light pink lipstick.  Combined with her dark eyes, she was the most
   awesome looking girl that he'd ever been out with.

   A few more sips of punch and a dozen songs later, the chaperons of the
   dance were quickly ushering everyone out.  When the dance ends, you better
   high-tail your ass out of there.  "Stuck up assholes", Jeff thought.

   Lisa and Jeff sat down in her car, and got ready to go home.  The radio
   popped on, and Jeff was quick to turn off the neo-industrial crap that the
   local station was spewing out.

   "So, uh.  Wanna go to a diner or something, Leese?"

   "Sure."

   -----

   They ate, and then started home.  Suddenly, only a few blocks before his
   house, she turned the Nissan Sentra off of the main road onto some rural
   side street.

   "What time do you have to be home, Jay?"

   "No time, really.  Why's that?"

   "Well, I've been looking for the perfect time to give you something," she
   said with a grin.  She reached over, and passionately kissed him on the
   lips, and then on the check, and then on neck.  In only a few minutes, she
   reached down and slowly unzipped his pants.

   -----

   The next Monday at school, Jeff saw Brian for the first time since the
   dance.  Normally, he would have told Brian all about how Lisa went down on
   him, but they weren't on normal terms anymore.  So, he said fuck it.  "He
   doesn't care about me," Jeff thought.

   -----

   A month or two later, and a couple of handjobs and blowjobs later, Lisa's
   parents were going to Atlantic City for the weekend.  Jeff snuck over
   there one night, and they were fooling around, and before he knew it, she
   was on top of him, totally naked.

   They fucked & sucked and kissed & cuddled, but it didn't matter what they
   did anymore.  He was never closer to anyone as he was to this girl right
   now.  It didn't matter what Brian said, or what they did, he knew they
   were going to be together for a long time.

   The next week, they broke up.  The night before they fucked, Lisa fucked
   Gramn Morris in his car.  It turned out that Gramn only fucked her to get
   back at Drew, he fucked some kid from another school that nobody knew.

   "Sex is evil."

   -----

   The first day of the next school year, Brian sat down right next to Jeff.
   Just like old times.

   Forgetting the months & months that had passed since they last talked,
   Brian asked, "Hey buddy, how was your Summer?"

   "Eh, alright.  Lisa and I broke up.  What about yourself?"

   "Ouch, that sucks.  Oh, I've been going out with Kelly.  You have to meet
   her.  She's awesome."

   Remembering old times, and figuring she was another one of Brian's
   month-long relationships, Jeff asked, "how long have you two been going
   out?"

   "Don't be an asshole.  I've changed the way I view girls because of this
   girl.  We've been going out since like, May.  I took her to the Spring
   Dance."

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (7) - The All But Kung-Fu Class - by Ben Ohmart

   The boy wasn't into cars because magazines were a couple dollars and the
   only thing they'd ever had was the old big green car.  It was the old big
   green car to him; pulling him to Stanton's every week, their only trip.

   She'd get out while still putting on make-up because she enjoyed having
   something to do with every minute of her day.  It was a good thing,
   because she had a full-time job and also took nights at a bar no one would
   think of looking for her in for tips, draped usually and fully in the
   failing purple housecoat that got the sides taken off every time before
   public trips.  The trick was pulling just the right thread.  The thick
   orange thread that stood out so that she'd get the right loop, and the
   sides, the pieces around the neck, would fall off quite easily.  Then it
   certainly looked like something you could wear in public.

   The best thing was the ride underneath the cart, where the dog food would
   go.  No dog, so he was safe for every journey.  The world was a different
   place under here.  There was no above.  There was only the land of cheap
   cereals and heavy rice sacks and the big bottles of alcohol and sauces
   that were still blocking up the shelves, a green pepper and Super Mushroom
   paradise in which the bar codes blurred and prices merged into just a
   single black dot for a change.

   Whenever they stopped for a moment, the boy wouldn't think of the two
   reasons they would ever stop: coupon or sale item.  It was the way he was
   delivered.  Not to mention her delivery.

   "Oh no! What's this? Where are we?", Mom would say, and the boy would
   smile a concern. "Hmmm... I don't like the look of this. This is.... oh
   no!"

   The boy would look out, imagine the gun in his hand.  He couldn't imagine
   the bullets.  But the threat was out there, and soon they'd be moving onto
   another location.  One involving pastas and greater dangers.

   "This doesn't look like the place to me," she'd say. "Look at the
   directions again.  It's dark around here."  The buggy moved.  "What's
   that?!"

   The boy looked.  Could see nothing.  But not because it wasn't there.

   "I want you to keep a look-out.  A careful, careful - oh no!"

   Suddenly there was a 32 year old sound effect, and the boy gave his own
   kind of swishing sound to the fight.  Customers looked and let them go,
   but the aging manager and youngish women poking cans into vacant lots were
   too used to the sight.  Not to mention the wobble.

   She could always blame it on the cart.  Wheels.  But it was the one
   consolation she had in life. Her boy was too important to be called a
   consolation.  Certainly a prize, but not a - her breath was all right, and
   she could hardly be scolded for spending the child's college fund on it.
   (Not there Was a college fund.)  But everything she got and consumed was a
   freebie at the bar.  She'd refuse the on duty drinks, but the owner of the
   place felt sorry for her.  Gave her the stuff to take home.  She took it
   as pure friendship.  There was no reason to feel guilty about any of it.

   It did keep her head pounding though.  Sound effects were a last resort.
   Still, the boy expected them.  She knew that.  She couldn't give him much,
   but she could give him that.

   Throw away newspapers were his book covers that came off in the rain; the
   imagination and a set that brought in a single channel when plugged in;
   dime books the library didn't want anymore; memories of that one trip to
   Washington DC that year; he was pleased with what he had.

   Coupons later, mom was struggling to fit the cart through the door that
   always opened for her, but for which she always giggled, and the boy
   carried any excess. Most of the time there was no excess - but he'd carry
   all the bags.  It made the buggy lighter and mom could conserve a little
   strength.  Didn't take much strength, but they both knew it added up.

   He'd unlock the driver's side, and while she got in, he would unlock his
   own, load up the car, and still she'd be on their adventure.  Some days
   there were pirates in the parking lot.  If it was cloudy, she'd look up
   and show her kid the fleet of Russian planes that were up there, blaring
   down, ready to kill.  He would protect her.  She'd point. Another!  Point.
   He was quick with the draw!

   It didn't last long, the years, which slowly drove her to a safe plot of
   ground.  The boy did as was shown.  The same rented house, since it always
   cost too much to move.  A part time job at a plant store, the rest dealing
   with delivering papers that brought tin the power, water and now and then
   hair cut.  Drinks weren't free, but then he didn't have to worry about car
   insurance or car.

   He'd take his dates to the grocery store.  But none of them "got it".  No
   one made the sounds.  He would drink, then offer, then drink.  But no one
   loved it as much as he did.  No woman had his mother's liver.

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (8) - Poetry - various writers

   sharon b. smith - by Eerie
 
   please
   wait till i'm outta the room
   before you start screaming
   breathing
   hard
   your immense self-induced joy
   i don't want to witness
   bedsheets
   alcohol
   bad porn movie soundtracks
   there is so little place
   your loneliness takes it all
   i hate when your lies are opened
   i hate when you throw me back into living state
   i've been lying down so long
   trying to never dream
   keeping my ass on the damn floor
   can't help moving
   can't help getting all your cold glances
   i know you don't know who i am
   I HATE BEING HERE
   BELIEVE ME
   I HATE IT
 
   -----

   new jersey - by Eerie
 
   reloaded
   dry & obscene
   white dust
   naked colors
   bad trip out of hallucinogens
   i'm dying of awareness
   yet i'm flying all over you
   last couple miles of concrete before penn station
   center of the known universe
   the sun strikes
   it's as cold as cold could be
 
   -----

   new york - by Eerie
 
   then back where i belong
   antarctica
   where everything is constant & predictable
   where my landscape doesn't hurt my eyes
   flat white pains
   yet
   it feels warmer than it used to
   smoke filling the room
   two tracks of pcp
   no need for sex
   in my room
   numbness is no annoyance

   -----

   Corporal Punishment - by Christopher Stolle

   stand up
   point out the instigator
   put them on trial
   select a jury
   appoint a judge
   make the defendant walk in
   with a brown paper bag
   over his head
   handcuffs around his wrists
   make him spill his guts
   or we'll pull the lever
   and do it for him

   -----

   Crisp, Aromatic, But At a Loss - by Christopher Stolle

   run down the road
   with a ball-point pen
   in your hand, to form
   a signature mark.

   rain drops from your face
   flowing through the lines
   on your face
   drying the wrinkles.

   no vanishing cream
   to alleviate the scars
   of disproportionate follies
   that you once saw
   from a vagabond train.

   silent waters
   never calm the soul
   nor quench
   the thirst
   for words.

   -----

   Together in the Wire - by Spinsane

   "I can feel my innards slipping away,
           through my fingertips...
   And I gasp for air, through the smoke
           of the calming lady's kiss-
   Whos breath it tastes of mustard seeds
           draining down my throat."

   "Well, my friend, the bugle calls
           and my body starts to bloat-
   Bursting all the rusted buttons
           on my once trim uniform.
   Together we shall lay comrade,
           as lovers she has scorned.

   "On a sea of broken bones we float
           mariners in a squall
   And the sweet song of our soldier's pride
           has lost its Sirens' Call."

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   (9) - Reviews, reviews, and more reviews - by Edicius

   -- Concerts --

   The Warped Tour / August 4 - Stone Pony, Asbury Park, NJ

   Great bands, punks, skateboards, expensive water, and Epitath Records.
   That's all you saw, or so it seemed, when you traversed the grounds of the
   Stone Pony Festival Area during this year's Vans Warped Tour.

   A great lineup was in store for a long day of music, skateboarders, and
   other assorted sideshows.  Besides the great lineup, which included the
   Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Civ, Nofx, Pennywise, Rocket From The Crypt,
   Red-5, Down by Law, and more, you had professional skateboarders and
   bmx'ers, plus the EA Sports booth (which allowed you to play various Sega
   Genesis, Ninetendo, and Sony Playstation games that they produce).  You
   also had signup booths from different organizations, including the
   Surfrider Foundation.

   Now, to the music.

   The way they scheduled the bands, they had them playing roughly 30 minute
   sets.  So, when one band would finish one the main stage, there would be a
   few minute downtime, and another band would then start playing on the
   second stage.  This way, you caught most of all the bands.  I'll talk
   about the bands that I liked the most.

   The first band that I saw that I liked was the Suicide Machines.  This
   band plays a mixture of ska & punk, but they did some impressive covers.
   Including a cover of Minor Threat's "Out of Step" and House of Pain's
   "Jump Around."  Otherwise, I don't remember many of their other song's
   names.  They were pretty good, though.

   Then, I caught one of the bands that I really wanted to see, Red-5.  I saw
   them last year, and I was really impressed then.  But, this time around,
   they were even better.  They played songs from their Interscope Records
   debut, _Flash_, including "Space", "Turn It On", and "Making Waves on a
   Future Ocean."

   Down by Law was, along with Civ, my favorite set of the day.  They blasted
   through their songs from their new release, _All Scratched Up_.  They awed
   the crowd with their rendition of The Proclaimers' "500 Miles", and they
   got the crowd moving with songs like "Radio Ragga" and "Gruesome Gary."
   They played their music, got the crowd moving, and had a great time.  By
   far, the ones I was most impressed with.

   Rocket from the Crypt thoroughly impressed me as well.  This six member
   band churns up a hardcore beat like no one else does.  They implement a
   trombone and trumpet to their hardcore rythym to give them a very subtle
   ska-ish sound.  They had the ground jumping during "On A Rope", and had
   everyone dancing while they played "Young Livers" and "Born In '69."  I
   loved their outfits that day; silver-sequence bowling shirts.

   After RFTC, I hurried myself over to the main stage to catch Civ.
   Including this show, I've caught Civ 4 of the last 5 times they've come to
   my area.  They've always put on a great show, and they didn't let the
   crowd down with this performance.  The four piece NYHC band played with
   all their might, and made sure the crowd was dancing and having a good
   time.  They played an incredible rendition of their song "Set Your Goals"
   by borrowing the horn section from RFTC.  They had the crowd begging for
   more by playing "Can't Wait One Minute More", "United Kids", and "Et Tu
   Brute?" flawlessly.  They did not let down a single person who came to
   this show to see them.

   I hung around and watched the skateboarders and got some water after this.
   I happened to catch part of Dance Hall Crasher's set.  This ska band was
   very good, and I was really impressed by what I saw of them.  I'm upset
   that I only saw two or three of their songs, and hopefully they'll come
   back.  I also missed NOFX, but I didn't really care too much about them,
   and Blink 182 was pretty good.

   Pennywise played this show when they weren't really supposed to.  They had
   originally cancelled the show due to the death of a close friend and
   former member of the band, but decided to play at the last minute.  This
   was great news to a large part of the crowd, who were obviously big fans
   of Pennywise.  Pennywise played a very energetic set, considering the
   circumstances, and the crowd was pleased.  They did a very unique version
   of B.B. King's "Stand by Me."

   Another band that had a lot of fans at the show was the Mighty Mighty
   Bosstones.  They had the crowd dancing and jumping to their ska-core beat,
   playing the songs that they've made big over the years that they've been
   together.  Included in this set were "Someday I Suppose", numerous songs
   from _Question the Answers_, and they ended off with a strong version of
   "Holy Smoke."

   Dicky Barret of MMB summed it up the best when he said, "We played a
   different tour last summer [Lollapalooza], and now we know that this is
   the real tour."

   I think everyone at this show would agree with that statement.

   -----

   Goldfinger/Dog Eat Dog / August 20 - Stone Pony, Asbury Park, NJ

   This was originally supposed to be a show with No Doubt, but due sickness
   to No Doubt lead singer, Gwen Stefani, No Doubt was forced to cancel.
   Instead of coming all the way to New Jersey and not playing, Goldfinger
   and Dog Eat Dog decided to play a free show.

   This was an amazingly great show.  The club was packed, there was
   little room to move around once inside.  The fact that this was a free
   show attracted a really mixed crowd of different musical genres.  You had
   punks, you had skinheads, you had rudeboys & girls, and you had
   alternateens.  None of these people went home upset, though.

   Dog Eat Dog was a band that a lot of people came for.  They're a mixture
   of musical styles, including hardcore, funk, and ska.  This band, named
   MTV Europe's 1995 Breakthrough Artist of the Year, is also semi-local;
   hailing from Northern New Jersey.  So, many of the people here have been
   able to follow their career from the start.  They did not let the crowd
   down, playing a good mixture of songs both old and new.

   After Dog Eat Dog, a surprising amount of the crowd left.  As I said, a
   lot of the crowd was there for Dog Eat Dog only.  Those who left, however,
   missed a great performance by this Californian punk-ska band.  Goldfinger
   kept the crowd moving as fast as they could by pumping out the songs from
   their largely popular self-titled debut album.  Including, "Answers",
   "Miles Away", and the hugely successful hit song, "Here In Your Bedroom."
   They danced on stage, crowd surfed with the fans, and had a great time.  A
   fan was selected to sing Operation Ivy's "Smiling", and for a 16 year old
   kid, he did a great job.  While the fan sang, lead singer John Feldman
   crowd surfed and bonded with fans.  The two song encore included their
   second huge hit, "Mable" and "How Deep Is Your Love?"

   Afterwords, the guys from the band were kind enough to hang around and
   talk to the fans that lingered outside the club.  I was lucky enough to
   get a Jonas sticker autographed by three of the members (Darren, Charlie,
   and John).  They were all very cool guys, talking to everyone and just
   having a good time and thanking them for coming.

   For a free show, it was spectacular.  Goldfinger put on an amazing
   performance this night.

   -- CDs/LPs --

   The Favorite Color / Color Out Of Space / Ohio Records

   This is one of the best sounding CDs I've heard in a while.  Great pop
   music that begs for big-time acclaim.  The music presented on their debut
   is far from what would be considered alternative, though this is a
   pleasant sounding alternative to the mainstream.

   Instead of concentrating on strong guitar riffs and fast vocals, they calm
   the tempo down with mid-temp riffs and strong lead vocals.  Lead singer
   Tris McCall's vocals are solid at the forefront of this great band.

   Backing members, drummer Tom Snow, keyboardist, Steve "Matrix" Matrick and
   bassist Martin Severin add a dynamic sound to The Favorite Color.
   Variation is the key here.  Instead of one sound that doesn't change
   throughout the album, the sound changes and flows throughout the span of
   the CD.

   Their music transcends a variety of musical styles, while their lyrics go
   through the lives of a variety of common people.

   They open up the album with a strong song, "Stereo."  According to lead
   singer Tris McCall, "the white-collar worker in 'Stereo has become an
   object; in order to get his job, he has sacrificed the possibility of risk
   and change."  Racism is talked about in "Go Back To West New York", a man
   looks at all the women he could never have in "V. In Love", and in
   "Valis" another office worker loses his faith in God due to the routine of
   his job.

   Overall, this is a very fantastic album from The Favorite Color.  They
   bring a series of different musical genres together to form one great and
   unique style.

   Grade: A+

   (Contact: Ohio Records, 48th Street #2, Weehawken, NJ 07807)
   -----

   Plastic Mikey / Cook Up Something New

   Plastic Mikey is a 5 piece jazz/rock band from the Chicago area.  They
   combine their influences (The grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, The
   Clash, Ornette Coleman) into music that is "modern but not trendy." The
   vocals are strong and the music is a very good mix of jazz and rock.

   They don't center the band around one specific instrument.  Instead, they
   use a great mixture of guitar, keyboards, saxophone, and drums.  The
   percussion and bass play an important role in this album.

   All the tracks on here display a very diverse group of musicians.  Songs
   like "A-Bomb" and "Cook Up Something New" define the upbeat nature of this
   band, while "Blows: Past Tense" gives the band more of a blues/jazz edge.

   The only track that is sub-par on this album is an over-extended
   instrumental by the name of "Dance of the Clay People."  It's a lengthy
   composition, and they have too many solos for one song.  Otherwise, this
   is a very fine debut album from a good jazz/rock band.

   I can pick up some early-Billy Joel-esque piano playing on this album,
   especially in the beginning of "Cook Up Something New."

   This band is going places.

   Grade: B+

   (Contact: Plastic Mikey, 7100 W. 166th St. #3B, Tinley Park, IL 60477)

   -- Demos/EPs --

   Cathexis / Naive

   This is a band that is hard to classify, it ranges through a few musical
   styles.  The band's musical influences range from punk and ska, to
   industrial and goth.  With all these influences, it's a wonder how they
   settled on a industrial-edge sound.  This demo is really good, with a
   clean-industrial sound, mixed with some goth.

   Songs such as "Steel Wool", "Naive", and "Nomtv" are just really good.
   There is no way around it.  This is a really good band; but as of this
   writing they are on hiatus due to some of the members going away to
   college.  I hope they don't mess up a good thing here, I wouldn't mind
   hearing new stuff from them in the future.

   -- 'Zines --

   Hardware Fanzine (#8 Spring '96, 8 1/2 x 11, 70 pgs., $1.50 ppd.)

   This is a 'zine for and about the hardcore music scene.  Good interviews
   with Ignite, Floorpunch, 97a, Ensign, and Pushead.  Amazingly great
   articles about the NJHC scene, including an article called "Jersey's
   Unheard Music" which traces the history of bands such as Sand in the Face
   and Mental Abuse.  Scene reports from around the world (Philippines has a
   hardcore scene?), short, personal (notably, editor Dave Koenig's
   experience with the Internet, and different reflections on shows he and
   co-editor Brett Beach have attended), and a slew of record and 'zine
   reviews round out this issue.

   (David Koenig 120 Coolidge Street 2nd Floor Linden, N.J. 07036-4302)

   -----

   Weezine (#7 Summer '96, 8 1/2 x 5 1/2)

   Another amazing issue of Weezine from Mykel and Carli, the great people
   who run the Weezer Fan Club.  Being that the new Weezer album, _Pinkerton_
   is scheduled for release on September 24, this issue is chock full of
   great information about the album.  Rivers Cuomo writes another letter and
   tells everyone whats going on with his leg brace, the new album, and
   school.  Brian Bell talks about the day he gave a guitar lesson to a boy
   who is sick with lukemia, and how it was a great experience for him.
   There's a rundown of a LA Area Weezer Fan Meet, which included an
   appearance by Rivers and Brian.  Plus, Karl Koch answers many many more
   questions from fans of the band, and he gives a complete list of every
   single Weezer item (t-shirts, hats, stickers, et al) ever made.  Overall,
   another great issue from Mykel and Carli, and as before, you can only get
   this by joining the Weezer Fan Club.

   (to join the Fan Club, send a SASE to Weezer Fanclub, 9311 SE Foster Rd.
   #666, Portland, OR 97266-4646)

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Tom would like to thank the following people, bands, and/or organizations
   for their help or contributions to this issue of Jonas,

   Belial (even though you don't do ANYTHING), Mindcrime, Dimes, Grey Hawk,
   Oodles, Spiff, tMM, Kojak, Tut, Mercuri, Jestapher, Eightball, Big Hurt,
   Eerie, Ben Ohmart, Chris Stolle, Lucifer, Trip, Misfit, Jon Vena, WHTG-FM
   Melanie Franklin and The New Museum, The Favorite Color and Ohio Records,
   Plastic Mikey, Cathexis, and everyone else who puts up with me long enough
   to have an intellegent conversation. I thank you all.

   --------------------------------------------------------------------------

                  Jonas e'Zine -- Issue 21 (Volume 2, Issue 6)
       send all questions, comments, or submissions to edi@cybercomm.net
          visit the web site, http://www.cybercomm.net/~edi/jonas.html
              visit Tom's web site, http://www.cybercomm.net/~edi/
                 if you've read it this far, you get a cookie!
                email Tom Sullivan/Edicius at edi@cybercomm.net
                      email Belial at belial@cybercomm.net
                 visit hot young girls, http://www.nyphette.com

                Jonas: It's more than a 'zine, it's a lifestyle.

   --------------------------------+ e o f +---------------------------------

