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  ||____\______/     http://members.optushome.com.au/steak/addendum/
  `'======='               Comprehension? Understanding? Bah!
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                  14-octo-2002           Issue # 82
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Contents:
1. Introduction, an introduction by Steak.
2. Stanley kurbricks 'a clockwork orange', a review by Steak
3. Arissenn Qithenmeir, a short story by Zircon
4. Noar, a short story by Steak
5. First man, the first installemnt in a number of short stories by Steak

>-----------------------------------------------------------------------<

1. Introduction, an introduction by Steak.

First I would like to take a moment to welcome you back to the new addendum.

As you may have noticed addendum has been on hiatus for a while. And if 
anybody bothered to visit 'THE OFFICIAL ADDENDUM SITE' (which I am one 
hundred percent certain you probably didn't) you would have found out that 
the reason for this is because I was taking time off to complete my first 
novella.

No, I haven't finished it yet; I'm about halfway done.

But Addendum is my baby and I want to see it grow into a great looking zine 
with enormous, tracks of land. So I have decided to fire it all up again, 
but not in its previous incarnation no. Just like the time lord ‘Doctor Who’ 
Addendum has shed it’s skin and underneath there is a new, youthful 
incarnation. It has changed for the better. Instead of bringing you, almost 
daily issues it will be monthly bumper issues filled to the brim with 
wondrous intelligent insightful indistinguishable bullshit straight from 
the brains of Phoenix, myself (Who is Steak, in case you happened to forget) 
and occasionally the degenerate ramblings of Zircon.

What’s more, this time, I am actually proof reading them!!!

So without further ado, lets get on with this, how shall we put it? 
‘Neo-addendum’

>-----------------------------------------------------------------------<

2. Stanley kurbricks 'a clockwork orange', a review by Steak

What is it about Stanley Kurbicks 'a clockwork orange' that keeps bringing 
me back to the film. What is it that makes me want to watch the movie the 
morning after, having only viewing it the night before?

Is it the wonderful cinematography that makes watching it a pleasure to 
the eye? Is it the wonderful script that was adapted from an equally brilliant 
novel? Is it the excellent sound track that accompanies the images, or the 
underlying messages that are still relevant today, no less than they were 
thirty two years ago when the film was produced. It could be any of these, 
just like it could be the wonderful acting or the mastery of directing.

Quite Probably, it’s a combination of all of the above.

There is something amazingly gratifying about watching this film. Kurbick as 
always shoots the movie perfectly; he has a genius eye for camera angles 
that is reviled by none other. There is no greater pleasure for a movie lover 
than watching a kubrick film.

The story is an amazing and relatively trippy one about what can happen 
within a society that believes that forced into being right is of more value 
than having the will to choose between the right and wrong.

All of the things that have gone into this film easily rises it into the 
realms of classical. The fact that our main hero/anti-hero constantly talks
to the camera makes you feel that you are right there next to him, 
experiencing all that is told to you. It is often hard to pull such a feat 
off, in some movies the narrator has no use and it seems that he is there 
for nothing other than to move the story along. Kurbick here blends Alex 
into the story perfectly.

The acting (like in all kubrick movies) is superb, Malcolm McDowell plays 
the part of Alex perfectly, he has all the external characteristics of a 
lout and a hoodlum, while the look in his eyes gives away an underlying 
intelligence that shows there is much more to Alex than meets the eye. 
There is no doubt in my mind that Malcolm McDowell is one of the most 
brilliant actors on the face of this earth. It shows up again, later in 
his life when he plays the ageing megalomaniac scientist Sorin in the 
feature film 'Star Trek: Generations'

Alex’s own little language, called 'Nadsat' in the Anthony Burgess book 
(which I regard as excellent reading) is a little hard to grasp at first 
but after a few viewings you start to understand it, and that gives you a 
heightened comprehension on each viewing of what Alex is experiencing. 
Truly masterful.

As always there are strange out-of the way references all through the film 
that propel the interest even longer, like the showing of the character 
based on Anthony Burgess being beaten up by Alex and his 'Droogs'

All in all I have to say that this film will forever go into my hall of 
fame along with most other of Kubricks master pieces.

>-----------------------------------------------------------------------<

3. Arissenn Qithenmeir, a short story by Zircon
	 
It was cold and dark as I walked through the damp air trapped in the 
underground tunnel. In my left hand I held a torch; a burning kerosene 
soaked rag wrapped around a length of wood. It was the only source of light 
I had to navigate my way through the stone dungeon in which I found myself.
	
'How I got here I do not know, why I'm here I do not remember.' These 
thoughts didn't seem to matter to me as something inside said that all I 
needed to do is continue my journey through this dingy hall and the questions 
floating around in my head would soon be answered.
	
	I discovered myself to be armed with items I don't recall obtaining. 
My right hand rested on the hilt of the broad sword sheathed at my left hip,
resting in its scabbard ready and waiting for action. Strapped to my back 
was a quiver of arrows; hanging over my shoulder next to them was a mighty 
longbow designed to fire them with incredible accuracy. I wore a beautifully 
forged chain-mail vest. This armor was strong enough to protect from enemy 
blows while remaining light enough to enable precise agile movements. Over 
my armor I wore the long green cloak of an Elf Ranger; this flowed behind 
me as I moved.

	I continued down the tunnel till I reached the end. There I was 
presented with two doors positioned on opposite sides of the hall. There 
was light emanating from beneath the door on the left. 'It must lead to 
the outside world.' I thought. Just as I reached out to open the left door 
I heard a cry for help come from behind me. I immediately turned around. 
The plea was coming from behind the other door. I stepped towards the door 
and slowly reached for the handle. Very slowly and very quietly I turned 
the handle and gently pushed the door, just enough to release it from the 
latch. I then stepped back, placed my torch on the ground to the left of 
the door and drew my sword. I took a deep breath then I kicked the door 
wide open. WHAM! The loud noise of the door slamming caught the attention 
of three goblin guards who where stationed in the room. The three glanced 
at me and drew their weapons.

	The first goblin raised his sword in the air as he ran towards 
me. I waited ready with both my hands on my sword. When he got close 
enough he brought his sword down to strike me, I took my sword up to meet 
his with a CLANG! With his sword blocked by mine I kicked him square in 
the face with my right foot, sending him to the ground unconscious. 

The second guard ran towards me with a spear. I stood with my sword facing 
down, when he closed in enough he jabbed the spear toward me. I swung my 
sword in a full clockwise circle slicing the tip of his spear off just 
in time to prevent it from piecing my stomach. I then brought my sword 
up, around and through, slicing his right arm off from above the elbow. 
He screeched as his arm dropped to the ground along with what was left 
of his spear. I brought my sword back again and dissected his head from 
his body. It rolled off into the pool of green blood on the ground and 
his body followed shortly after, falling in a heap on the floor. 

The third goblin had decided not to rush in and was waiting inside the 
room with a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. I held my 
sword facing down in my right hand, stepped over the decapitated 
remains of my last opponent and walked slowly toward my next. As I 
walked toward him I surveyed the area. The room was empty apart from 
a table and four chairs arranged against the left wall. There was 
also an archway in the right wall leading to the next room. When I 
was about half way to my adversary I lifted my sword and launched it 
spinning through the air till it came to a sudden halt as it cleaved 
the guard's skull. The goblin flopped to the ground; my sword still 
wedged in his head.

Footsteps, behind me! I threw myself to the ground. As I dropped 
into a roll I felt a blade swoop past my back. I rolled past the 
dead guard grasping my sword with my right hand and removing it. 
At the end of my roll I spun around, still crouching, and thrust 
my blade upward straight through the guts of the first goblin I 
had encountered, who had obviously regained consciousness. I 
removed my blade, and the guard fell to the ground.

Still crouching I rested my elbows on my knees. Breathing deeply; 
I could feel the adrenaline pumping through me. I wiped the green 
blood off my blade on the dead bodies' raggedy clothes and stood 
up slowly. 
"HELP!"

I turned my head the scream was coming from the direction of the 
next room. Grasping my sword in my right hand I ran through the 
archway into the next room. The room was colossal! The other end 
of the room was beyond the view of even my keen Elven eyes, as 
was the ceiling. There was balcony upon balcony lining the walls
of the hall, each with dozens of doors leading off to other rooms. 
The hall was filled with towering marble pillars escalating into 
the darkness.    

'FWWING!' 
The arrow screeched past my ear and embedded itself in the stone 
floor in front of me. In one swift movement I sheathed my sword, 
turned around, fetched my bow, armed it with an arrow and let it 
fly straight through the left eye of one of the two goblin archers 
who where firing at me from a balcony above the archway through 
which I had entered the hall. I then aimed and shot the second 
arrow, which struck the other archer through its cold evil heart.

	I heard the voice call again. "Aramar Arha Shemtek!" a 
bright flash of light filled the galaxy then slowly darkness
engulfed my mind.

To be continued...

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4. Noar, a short story by Steak

This first story was written by me one night when I was high on coffee, 
cheap 'BAROSSA, CABERNET SAUVIGNON SHIRAZ (the 1999)' and the delicate 
wonders of Christian TV. Then it was made better by me yet again, high 
again, about four weeks later.

 Noar
  By Steak

Once upon a time there was a boy called Noar, that (of course) wasn't 
his real name, but the name he lived by, his real name was 
Noararonasapedakelodim, he shall hence forth be known as Noar.

He went to school and some of the time pretended to study amongst other 
things English, Computers and Mathematics. He had high aspirations to 
become a toilet cleaner. However he had a secret desire to become an 
executive toilet cleaner.

The time he wasn't pretending to be studying hard to get fake grades, 
he spent hanging around with his friends, he liked hanging around with 
his friends, they all thought the same as him and all felt the same 
as him on different topics. Which mainly consisted of sports cars, 
motorbikes, women, and hurting small animals.

Another way he was the same as his friends was that he liked to hang 
around (and wishing that he owned) his friend's flashy sports car 
that his friend’s mom brought his friend for his birthday. Sometimes 
when he went home he would sit on his toilet and masturbate over a 
picture of the sports car he took with a hidden camera he had taken 
to school one day, but that’s another story

He and his friends also liked to hang around with each other making 
animal noises and trying on jewellery, until the teachers told them 
that wearing jewellery was against the school rules, even for men. 
After which they would have there jewellery confiscated and they 
would then bitch for a while about how "fucked up this mother fucking 
school is, yo"

One day Noar was enjoying standing around his friends flashy sports 
car, he had experienced a pretty good day at school, he had seen up 
the sports cars skirt a couple of times and had made some very 
convincing animal noises in the computer class, that had almost had 
him thinking that a pig had forced itself down his throat. But he 
had made a bad one and had remembered that it was unlikely that a 
pig would make a bad noise. It was just as well or he might have 
started stuffing pig feed in his mouth

Today was a special day for Noar, you see Noar used to only wear 
two necklaces but yesterday he had brought another piece, a 
particularly flashy piece of jewellery, a nice little necklace that 
hung around his neck with a gold medallion. He had purchased this 
at the local shopping mall for the barging price of five hundred 
dollars, because of this purchase there was no doubt in his mind 
that he had raised a few rungs up the pecking order’s ladder. 

He was now higher in respect of the sports car owner than the guy 
with only two necklaces. He was happy about that. He made this 
fact clear with the amount of 'ya mom' jokes he gave the guy with 
only two necklaces. The guy tried to come back by pushing his way 
into the crowd and making more 'ya mom' jokes, but all this was 
to no avail. The entire group had forgotten that yesterday he had 
been more important than Noar.

Noar now had the more expensive necklace and was hence, more 
important than the other guy.

The guy was a little upset about being put down a rung or two, so 
decided that he would kick the bins around a bit, because that 
might make his friends think he was cooler. He went up to one and 
delivered it a hefty kick to one of the wheels; the bin fell over 
and rolled backwards tripping the guy over. He fell on his arse. 
Unfortunately he didn't hurt himself but when he got up he realised 
that his necklace was broken, he cried like a baby. He now had no 
necklace. He got down on all fours and wept. Just then a teacher 
approached who had been watching the whole thing and issued him a 
suspension for wilful destruction of property. He was still 
crying as they led him away.

The rest of the group saw all this and started laughing at him, 
then promptly forgot about him altogether. He had lost his 
necklace and even his skin-tight pants and shirt could not make 
up for such a phenomenal loss. He could no longer function as 
part of the group. He was ancient history.

Noar was back in the word. Whatever that meant, he definitely 
didn't know but it sounded good.

In the distance a group of people were walking towards them, they 
were the nerds, for some reason they liked to spend time talking 
over things with each other, and reading books in the library. 
They would often act very strange and dance around and do things 
that didn't make sense. If Noar didn't know better, he would 
think that that they didn't care what people thought of them, but 
that was stupid, you had to care. He didn't understand, so he 
made fun of them, just to be on the safe side.

	"Dickheads!" he said, following it up with "fuck-heads!"

The nerds decided that they would try to talk to Noar

	"Noar? Why do you insist on doing nothing all day apart 
from hanging around sports cars and making fun of other people, 
its a fundamentally erroneous way of thinking. You make fun of 
things you don't understand, it’s a very primitive instinct, 
much akin to that of the Neanderthal"

Noar didn't have any idea what any of this meant but was sure it 
was some kind of personal insult against his sister, so he came 
back with the most witty retort he could think up which was a 
monumental strike of genius on the part of Noar

	"Shut up fuck-brain, I fucked Ya mom"

The nerds smiled to themselves and walked off, Noar was happy; 
he had obviously won so he shouted out after them

	"Hey fuck-brains, I fucked your sister too, and she was 
a good fuck, I wanted her something all right, so I just took 
her, fuckbrains!"

Noar was pleased with himself to have created such an amazing 
piece of repertoire he wanted to use it as much as possible.

	"Fuckbrains!" he shouted again
	"FUCKBRAINS!!"

Unfortunately for Noar they were out of earshot.

It was coming up to the end of the day and he would have to 
walk the hundred yards home, something he really despised, he 
wished he could get out of it. Maybe he thought, if he asked 
the sports car owner nicely he would let him get a lift, he 
walked up to the guy's window

	"Hey man" he started "My names Noar, remember me? Me the 
guy that hangs left of JekX, I gave you that water you wanted that 
hot day back last year, I think it was in summer"

The sports car owner rolled down his window and stared back at him 
from behind mirrored glasses, he was wearing no less than six 
necklaces and a collection of expensive looking rings on his hand, 
he also sported a cap that looked really cool, Noar considered 
buying one at a later date, later, so the sports car guy would 
not get offended that somebody might be copying him. ‘What a good 
idea’ he thought.

	"Righteous-man, I tick your image"

Noar wasn't quite shore what this meant either but he didn't mind, 
he was obviously not as intellectually advanced as the sports 
car owner, and he made a mental note to try and learn what 'I 
tick your image' meant. He instantly forgot his mental note 
approximately eight seconds later.

	"You gonna erect there all light time like a frozen 
penis" said the leader

There was a burst of gruff laughter from the back of the car as 
his friends all laughed in agreement. Noar laughed as well, for 
he would let his idol make jokes about him if it meant he might 
be remembered in some small way. To be recalled in the mind of 
such an academic genius would be a highly gratifying honour.

He hastily blurted out

	"You are the one and only G you know, your the best, I 
love your sports car, it's so shiny, I wish I could own one like 
that, it would so like, you know, man, rock. I think your 
necklaces are really pretty- I mean cool, man. And, and..."

	"Hey man" the leader said "I recognise your words man, 
careful freak i might just want to blade ya come supper time for 
my main course, so exit with the chat and make with the fast 
and quick meaning"

	"I would love it, man if I could like get a lift home, 
homie"

The leader took down his glasses and stared at him

	"Gee, you can ride with us, let us take your grass and 
liquid and become the blades homies sexual tendencies man, you dig it?"

Noar didn't

	"Yeah G" he said, "I dig it, with like shovels man, 
big ones, man"

Noar got into the back seat of the car and got the lift home 
he always wanted, when he sat down in the back of the car on 
the silky shiny leather he almost ejaculated right there on 
the seat but managed to contain himself. However when he got 
home, it was a different story, he really let go and enjoyed 
himself immensely.

That night while Noar was sleeping somebody crept into his room 
and woke him up. Noar woke up in a terrible fright and found 
himself face to face with himself.
	
	"Noar" Noar said "I am your subconscious, and I feel 
that I want to try and make some kind of a contribution to 
the human race. I sit back and watch you all day, I watch you 
repress that feeling you used to get when you were young that 
everyone is not quite right. I watch you buy clothes just 
because your friends like them, I’ve seen you disrespecting 
people who are obviously more intelligent than you, I’ve seen 
you become a slave to the advertisements on the television that 
you keep on forcing me thought.

I don't know how many episodes I can take of Rove McManus, if I 
see his face again I think I’m going to take control of your body 
and launch a homicidal strike against his house.

Look, I don't mean to be rude but I really can't stand to sit back 
and watch you ruin your life, which is why I am going to help you. 
Well, to tell the truth not really you, I would say I’m probably 
helping the human race more than you, but that really doesn't concern 
you anymore, at least it won't in minute

Anyway look, sorry about this, Noar, but your such a sorry wanker that 
I had to do something.

Noar's sub-conscious then jumped on him and strangled him until he was 
dead.

And that’s the end of the story, oh and by the way if you were at all 
worried about Noar parents. They came in the next day and found him lying 
there with his eyes rolled back into his head and a terrible death 
scream look on his face. His parents gasped, gaped and cried over their 
loss, but you see Noars parents were as dumb as Noar was so about 
eight seconds later they promptly forgot they had ever had a son.

For years after Noar's parents often wondered for a whole eight seconds 
who the rotting teenage corpse belonged to in the spare room, they 
never could figure it out. It's a shame really, if they had friends 
then they might have been able to tell them who it was, but they 
didn't so they never did.

As for Noar's so called friends, they also forgot about him and the 
name 'Noar' was never heard of again, partly because they had already 
had their eight seconds to think about it and partly because it was 
such a stupid name for a fictitious representation of a character 
based loosely on total idiot.

And the gene pool forever on has this nagging suspicion that it owes 
Noar’s sub conscious something.

>-----------------------------------------------------------------------<

5. First man, the first installemnt in a number of short stories by Steak

This story needs no introduction; it is the long awaited first instalment 
of the First man saga. Enjoy.


First man had been wondering across the desert for days, the heat was 
almost unbearable and his water was almost gone, he hadn't had a drink 
in a couple of days and he was completely dehydrated. First man decided 
to take a rest and sat down, he took the top of his canteen and put the 
bottle to his lips and tilted it skywards, the last drops of water fel from 
the bottle into his mouth where he washed them round, blissfully wetting 
the inside of his mouth before they were swallowed. He sat for second and 
enjoyed feeling the cool waterfall down his thought and into his belly.

First man put his canteen back on his belt and made his way off again 
in the direction of his destination. He crossed two more giant sand dunes 
until he came to the end of his journey, sitting in front of him was a 
small brown shack with smoke coming from a little brown chimney.

First man went up to the door and knocked, he listened intensely and heard 
the rustling of footsteps and the low complaining of a voice. First man 
waited and very soon the door was alive with the chinking of locks unlocking 
and bolts unbolting. The door swung open to reveal a figure that was 
cloaked in black robes. First man noticed that he could not make out his 
face.

	"Oh second man" said the first man "I have been brought to you 
by a vision, I was told that I am destined to seek great things from 
you. Please sir, I have travelled from far, what invaluable information 
have you for me?"

Second man raised his head slightly so that first man could make out 
the end of a long white beard but before he could look for any other 
features second man had stepped back and was ushering first man into 
the shack.

The first thing First man noticed when he walked in was that even 
though the fire was roaring in the grate, the room was not overly hot 
but was in fact very present, it seemed that the fire was keeping the 
temperature in the room clement.

Only the burning logs in the grate provided light for the hut, there 
wasn’t a lamp, a torch or a bulb anywhere to be seen. As the logs combusted 
they caused a beautiful flickering yellow fire pattern on the wall exactly 
opposite. Placed next to the fire were a couple of identical red leather 
armchairs. All the other walls where covered with bookshelves, most of 
which were filled with novels, manuals and every other printed media you 
care to mention, but where there were no books; jars, boxes, notepads 
and bits of paper took their place. In one corner a small door was 
fashioned in such a way that you really had to stare through the tranquil 
and comfortable gloom to be able to make it out. 

First man waited silently as Second man, still robed made his way through 
the little door and into the room beyond, he soon returned with a stone 
chalice full of water which he hastily gave to First man.

First man didn't need to be told even once, he put the little bowl to his 
lips and drunk the entire cup down and instantly felt better. Second man 
hastened first man over to one of the chairs and gestured at him to sit 
down.

When they were both seated, Second man threw back his hood to reveal an 
old man with a long white beard and big bushy eyebrows. He reached for a 
pipe, which he loaded and put to his lips, lighting a match he took a long 
deep draw of it and exhaled filling the room with sweet smelling smoke.

First man was becoming more insistent to get on with the self-discovery 
part of the story and was becoming awkward

	"Sir, please, I beg of you, tell me what it is I have come here to 
learn"

	
Second man looked at First man, lazily at first, although he was tired, he 
could see there was something in the visitor that strived for the knowledge 
and wisdom he wanted to teach. Second man took another puff of his pipe 
and exhaled, ready to tutor his guest.

	"It's like this" He said "You are not really as important as you 
think you are, your just a sort of entity, just floating around in a 
massive field of other entities. 

All you do- is just think and do stuff, think and do stuff, that’s all. 

It's not much, but that’s it. And the thinking part of the brain gets too 
big for it's boots, it starts thinking it's the most important thing in 
the universe, simply because all it can sense is itself. It can sense the 
images and sounds of people and it consciously reasons that they must be 
other intelligent consciousnesses around, but when all is said and done 
it can't physically feel them around, as in it can’t think what they think 
and can’t sense what they sense. As far as the subconscious is concerned 
it is only entity that exists. Do you follow?" asked Second man

"I think so, but what does this have to do with my life?" asked First man

"It's easy" replied Second man "Naturally that repressed subconscious 
feeling that we are the entire universe flows into our conciseness lives, 
even if we don’t know it and we end up with this over inflated mind that 
thinks we are something we're not. 

It looses sight of the fact that its nothing in the grand scheme of things 
and becomes encased in the stupidity of it's own existence, it can't get 
out. I have a feeling that if we were to directly study it then we might 
find that it doesn’t want to get out. It probably likes the same repetitive 
boring tasks that it seems to do all day and finds comfort and happiness 
in it, building up this little room of indulgence in the minds own 
creative little world. It refuses to leave, tricking the conscious mind 
into thinking that the world that has been created is the only world 
that exists, and there is no alternative.

It really is quite depressing if you think about it."

First man felt ashamed, he didn't like the idea one little bit, not 
because it scared him or he was not ready for it, but because he was 
embarrassed of himself, that he had been living like this without even 
knowing it

"Oh great superior intellect of a person you" said First man "I understand 
what you are saying, I can relate it to my own life, but how is it that I 
might be able to change and come around to a more enlightened way of thinking?"

The old man thought about this for a second, took another puff on his pipe 
and started to answer First man's questions

"Well for a start, first man, you have to tell yourself that you are not 
the centre of everything that the entire universe revolves around and 
start thinking outside of the square you live in, you can take an interest 
in world affairs you can strive to seek as much information and knowledge 
as absolutely possible. You can try your hardest to be an individual and 
follow your self instinct. You can try and not be influenced by 
advertisements and propaganda, in fact you should try and cut out the 
television and other popular forms of media and try reading a book. 

You can try and take an interest in history and find out the circumstances 
of the mistakes that have already been made, and make sure you don't repeat 
them. You might even be able to create some new ones.

 You only have one life, First man. Everyone is going to experience say, 
having a job, a family, a house and a mortgage. Be different, live 
outside the trend, invest in a shed in the middle of nowhere and live 
there for a year or longer like me. Find out what it teaches you about 
yourself. 

Do something individualistic, something that not everybody does, write a 
book, go sky diving, try you luck and have a relation ship with somebody 
you never thought you would like, learn to play an instrument. Be happy 
to be alive and not dead. Chuck out the religion and start to expand your 
mind, don't shut yourself in with mysticism but open it to what is really 
happening in the universe 

But whatever you do make sure it's something that is individualistic 
and that is different, don't be afraid to be different. That, First man 
is what is important in life. 

First man thanked second man immensely for the information and vowed to 
live his life in a new way, he vowed to quit his job, divorce his over 
domineering wife and follow his own instincts. Second Man acknowledged 
this and refilled First man's canteen and sent him on his way home.

All the way back First man planned his new life to the tiniest little 
detail, he had it all planned out, the only thing left now, was to put 
his plan into action. And he would go on to do so, in the next issue.


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       That edition of addendum was brought to you buy, the 
                 letters A, Y, B and the number 42          
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