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   *  / __ \_ |  \ /_/ >\__  \|  |  Y Y  \<_> ) |  \__  \|  |\ ___/|  | \/ *
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   * 10.7.02           		 angstmonster                     issue 10 *  
   *************************************************************************

                            ¡edited (poorly) by gir¡	
		
        "I can just smell the dark blood of the unicorns on her." -Mr. Jay

§+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++¡contents¡+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++§
+                                                                              +
+ Brief Words from gir                                                         +
+ New Wordpad Document                                               tildaq    +
+ Blargh                                                             estell    +
+ Acro Made Me Do It! (gir's guide to naming stuff)                            +
+ Life.                                                              ch33z-1t  +
+ New Port Suck                                                      gir       +
+ Concert Review!                                                    koolpeith +
+ Cynthia's Puppet Show                                              gir       +
+ In The Wake Of The Angstmonster                                    oregano   +
+                                                                              +
§+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++¡contents¡+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++§


---------------
: Brief Words :
: From gir    :
---------------

If I'm reading someone's writing and I dig it, it makes me wanna write, if I am
listening to someone's music and I dig it, it makes me wanna write (and make
music of my own) if I watch a movie, it makes me wanna write, etc etc.  For some
reason, I'm easily motivated by other's creations as opposed to my own 
intentions.  But whatever.  Making use of the regularity I plan to make my brief
words as the number of angstmonster issues rack up, I considered going at it 
Quarex style (go read GRILL NOW!) and having a column full of bits and pieces of
rant rather than one concise, well thought out rant.  Of course I'm not sure how
well that'll go considering my foot just fell asleep again and that has nothing
to do with what I was saying.  And I doubt that once I get into it I really say
much of anything because all of what I could say is something that could be
drawn out into a full out article when no one sends me anything.  (But I doubt 
that'll happen)  There are enough regulars now and hopefully for awhile, to keep
this beastly angst goblin alive long enough to see me at a new laptop since
during two week in between issue period, my old laptop decided to break.

And because I'm so hung up on the feeling of being able to "write" and lay in
bed at the same time, I spent the last hour fighting with a particular bitchy
Toshiba laptop I pulled out of a dumpster in Richmond along with the infamous
"Bill Perkins" who later suffered a horrible death by being beaten against a
dumpster and smacked shitless by a pogo spring.  The culprits are still at large
and are believed to be attending school in northern Virginia and working for a
large video rental chain respectively.

But I digress.  By next issue maybe all of that will be sorted out and I can not
feel like there's such a writer's block up in my piece.  But for now I think 
I'll sleep on the idea.

My ideas are comfy like pillows, are yours?


----------------
: New Wordpad  :
:  Document    :
:   by tildaq  :
----------------

1 = !
2 = @
3 = #
4 = $
5 = %
6 = ^ 

!)
It Rains More In The Forest:
There are two charges; negative and positive.  72% of humans have what we call,i
"Balanced Charges."  The other 53% make up the the category we like to 
nominclate as something known as, "Unbalanced Charges."  Having UC can be 
detrimental one's health.  If You have only positive charges you can become 
depressed, emotionally unstable and schizofrenickkk.  If YOU have too many 
negative ions you become deathly ill, self-conscious and/or 28%.

@)
Math:
If math were a proverbial hamburger, I would eat it (with frenshh fries).  I can
sum up math in two and a half words, pizza ice.  The other half of the second 
word is Crream.  Pizza and ice Crream.  I'm hungry.  Fourty-2 percent of 
statisticks are made up on the spot.

#)
Purple doesn't exist:
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oid______________________void______________________void______________________voi
d______________________void______________________void______________________void_
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$)
Sesame Street is based on a true story:
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___________________void___________

%)
A Day In The Life Of An Opinion:
My name is Bill.  I'm just an opinion, but I sure have a hectic life.  I'm 
always being tested.  An opinion that is similar to me will often come out of 
some other person and challenge me.  In this case I have to constantly present 
my logic.
{each opinion is controlled by a root(main) idea in the center of the brain}
My root idea is "Marijuana(proper noun) should be legalized."  If I were to be 
challenged by a similar root idea, like "Marijuana should not be legalized,"  I 
would simply send a message like, "It's not really the bad for you, it's 
natural, it has medical purposes, it's not as bad as alcohol or cigarettes and 
those are legal for some reason, it relaxes you and relieves stress, everybody 
else does it and have for like more than five years, Pink Floyd! Tool! Harrison 
Ford! Bill Maher! Black people! Pee-wee Herman! Smurfs! Prying open my third eye
...etc."  If my message is shorter than the challenger's, I lose and the similar
opinion tickles me and hides me in the depths of the 'retrievable memory bank' 
located in the back of the brain.

^)
...emoc lliw yeht ,ti dliub uoy fi:
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oid______________________void______________________void______________________voi
d______________________void______________________void______________________void_
_____________________void______________________void______________________void___
___________________void___________


-------------
:   Blargh  :
: by estell :
-------------

In my life I've only ever had 2 pairs of jeans. This may seem strange to those 
of you with that "perfect pair" lying around but that doesn't matter. The first
pair was of the 80's breed and too tight for my liking, thus I decided not to 
wear them at all. The second pair was big and baggy and I tripped all the time. 
I did not understand how all the little grungie kids praddled about in their 
gigantor jeans, while I was left to fall on my face  at any given moment. So I 
decided they too were not for me. Alas I run naked through the forest cursing 
the makers of jeans for I am now an outcast in all societies, well except 
nudists and to be honest they're a little too into the naked thing for me. I am 
simply not adaptable to human contact. I am reborn in the forest and thus my new
name shall be plinko the angstmonster, come into my territory and I shall eat 
you for my teeth have grown long and fangy, my eyes have gone buggy and catch 
every movement you make! My arms have gotten long and strong and now I run on 
four legs, I am a scientific marvel, though I'm still having some trouble 
keeping the tummy nice and trim, I just don't understand it, I think it's the 
bunnies I keep eating they're great  but I guess full of fat, and I really have
no... I mean GROWL!!! You're gonna get it if you come after me, so leave me 
alone.

                               ~Plinko~                     

                               /\____/\
                                  OO
			        |VVVV|
				-\ææ/-						

				
----------------------
: Acro Made Me Do It :
:   gir's guide to   :
:    naming stuff    :
----------------------

It was a rare occurrence in a channel named acro, but we did it and like a burst
of energy inside of me I decided to write another tfile before bed that was a
more conventional and more generic and bring you a list of names for possible
"projects" you have.  (By projects I mean the tfile group you wanna start but
instead you've invested endless amounts energy into learning to play an
instrument and as a result, you want to start a band.)  But in an unconventional
and controlling fashion, I will provide you with a short explanation of the name
or what your project must be about.  Of course if you wanna gain real "cred" in
whatever field the name is used, make the understanding of the story by all of
your fans reason enough to live but make the content of the actual "project" not
relate to the name and meaning at all.  And when your strung out piss drunk from
the endless "party hangover" and someone wants to interview you about the peak 
of your projects fame, you'll have prefabricated amusement for one an all!

Positivland

You are are dedicated to releasing large amounts of Negativland hate mail in the
most avant garde way imaginable.  You then send the "finished" product to
members of Negativland and when you receive no response, begin to take the
spoken word used in various Negativland creations to form your own hate mail
which you send to Negativland in hopes that they'll respond and they in turn
release an album dedicated to your cause which you sue them over.  Using their
resulting works concerning your suing them over them using your collage of their
work to form hatemail you decided to send to them because they did not respond
to your original collage of hate mail sent to them, Negativland finally makes it
big with the most commercial release known to man.  This results in your head
exploding and you are no longer able to create any more artwork in this fashion
unless enough time has passed so that technology has advanced enough that you
might actually be able to get a new head.  Of course if that were to happen,
Negativland might have been long since dead and not been able to perverse your
vision of their fan mail.  You then decide to create a time machine instead of
forming any sort of project and the end goal of the time machine is to see that
Negativland never forms.  Once you succeed, you realize that it's an
impossibility of the time space continuum that allowed this even to take place.
Your newly grown and reattached head explodes.  Since your head exploded in the
past, you can not get a new one and you future boy are fucking dead!

Starfucks

It's obvious that you spend all of your time in coffee shops brooding over the
new Nine Inch Nails album.  You spend the rest of your free time trying to sleep
but find that because of the large amounts of coffee you drink that you cannot
sleep at all.  You are every angsty child that's ever existed rolled into one
and your logo is a lot like the Starbucks logo except for the fact that it's a 
representation of a woman's legs spread wide open so her twat is fully exposed.
Since you spend so much time at the coffee shop, the logo is the closet thing 
you'll get to sex.  That is of course before you sell out whatever medium it is 
you're in and make lots of money.  Then you'll have all these real reasons to be
angsty and unhappy and drink even more coffee!  Coffee is your life blood and 
will sooth all the angst goblins inside of you.  Angst goblins can be tricky 
sometimes so you drink lots of coffee to sooth them.  You'd like to meet Trent 
Reznor some day because he's the only person that really understands you.  For 
real!  So in order to meet Trent, you stop at nothing to whore your creation out
to every angsty audience in the world hoping that Mr. Reznor is in that audience
and that he is listening to what you have to say.  It's your dream waiting to be
crushed into a ball of more cynicism and that only gives your more fuel for the 
search.  Maybe someday you'll find him and he'll understand.  This is of course 
if Starbucks doesn't sue you first for copyright infringement.  But after you 
are sucked dry of all your riches and fame by some evil corporate machine, 
you'll be really fucking angsty and poor.  Be a bum and pray that you can be and
extra in the video for the next David Bowie/Trent Reznor collaboration and then 
that little ball of cynicism that was your dream will have come true.

Dismember Your Member

This has violence and metal written all over it.  That of course leaves room for
endless amounts of potential for anyone.  Instead, this is really a project
dedicated to how one girl caused ultimate pain and suffering in your life
because when you told her not to use teeth and she did anyways.  That amount of
friction caused you all sorts of physical damage and wounded your soul.  After
many failed attempts at seeking out a new love, you decide that no one can
fill you with the proper causes of discomfort that this girl did.  Upon your
realization you seek out your high school sweetheart bent on confessing your 
love for her and asking to reunite her teeth with your member in some strange 
form of eternal soul mate style loving and child bearing.  You come to find out 
that after she left you, she married a dentist illegally over spring break in 
Canada and he cut all of her teeth out with a spoon.  For this reason you become
obsessed with the idea that cereal must be eaten with a knife because spoons are
to dull.  After years of knifing your breakfast with much success your realize
that the scars left by teeth oh so many years ago would make a kick ass tattoo
and in celebration of your new tat, you release your pain and torment in some
semi creative form.

Dungeon Master's Guide

A project dedicated to the betterment of your D&D campaign?  A collection of
tips on how to succeed in BDSM?  Or a bizarre (yet delightfully entertaining)
combination of both?  NO!  IT'S NOT EVEN THOUGH IT SHOULD BE!  Dungeon Master's
Guide is in fact a group of emo kids who thought their obscure reference to
Weezer would be way cool and gain them lots of nods to liking Weezer before the
Green album ever existed.  And even though "In the Garage" was a great song
that many a loser can live by, these kids do not know what a dungeon master's
guide is.  They're too busy worrying about what brand of sweater can be bought
new and look like it came from the thrift shop.  Thus you must lead these weird
emo kids toward the light that is roleplaying!  (Whether is be the D&D type or
involve BDSM, the less emo kids in the world, the better place it will be for
your children.)  That said, your project won't really release any sort of
creative material until it involves suggestions on dice rolling technique and
where the best bondage gear in your town can be found.  Just remember, fuck an
emo kid for thinking his obscure reference was made up by Weezer.  You know the
truth and that is why you secretly killed their original founder and sold him to
the crazy people with the sex dungeon so you could buy some extra dice and the
new edition of the Monster's Guide.  You are our only hope... don't fuck up.

Me is Man

Aren't typos funny?  Well you must think so because that's the cause you
dedicated yourself to them after waking from one of the coolest dreams you ever 
had.  Too bad you don't remember it!  But I guess that's not going to stop you 
from being the best, oh no!  It's going to take something much more sinister 
from stopping you.  That's why you befriended a fat girl and made her your best
friend all through out high school because you read on the bathroom stall door
that fight chicks are eager to put out!  Of course your delightful sharing of
this knowledge disturbs your friend of half a decade and on prom night she
decides not to give it up in mere protest.  Instead you both get trashed and
realize that there's more to life than cliche things that are supposed to happen
to you by the time you end high school.  Some how fate decided that the naming
of your project would not be a curse but that you'd get made fun because your
name isn't grammatically correct LOL!

Existential Vagina

You can't remember who came up with the name but you're going to take credit for
it because you are are ballsy enough to public display the idea in hopes that
some passerby really will use the name as an idea for their ever growing lists
of "projects to do when i get enough sense of direction to drop out of school
and sit around all day making a mockery of myself."  Your project is the most
bestest thing out there and none shall ever steal your throne of destruction.
Instead they will eat lots of applesauce every time someone gets a funny idea
about thwarting you from said throne of destruction.  One day you will write
something about how "every time someone tries to thwart you from the throne of
destruction a bowl of applesauce results in your gain of a new minion."

Pissing Contest

One night you realized that Death isn't something you think about in the heat of
any giving moment so you decided to challenge him to all sorts of events in
which you are superior.  Of course, death wins because he's been around much
longer than you and he's just that cool.  Everything you write about is about
how Death is such a cool guy and you really wish you could have been his friend.
I'm sure he would have shared the secrets of being really good at everything if
you had offered to be his friend and just thought about him every so often.

He Dwindles

Femminist movement led by a macho bunch of drunken football players.  You are
so nonsensical that your art can't be reproduced without causing a few heads to
explode.  If someone had killed Negativland as so to prevent them from forming,
you would have been at the top of the list.  Instead you are at the end.

I hope that's been helpful to someone out there.  If not, maybe it offended you.
That'd be amusing too.


---------------
:    Life     :
: by ch33z-1t :
---------------

why is it when we have a birthday we never feel any older?  so when you ask
someone does it feel any different to be another year older?  and they respond
with a simple no.  if you dont feel any older, then how the fuck do you not
feel the way you did when you were 12.  i know i wish i was 12 sometimes.  why
does your brain mature so slowly.  i really dont know.  i just sometimes wish
that life would stop in those instances where you are in complete bliss.  like
holding your girlfriend or meeting your favorite rock star.  no one can take
these memories away from you.  my advice would be to live your life as much as
you can while looking into the future.  try to make the most of every second,
but without fucking up the rest of your life.  life is too short and precious
to waste.  my main thing is FUCK EVERYONE  who puts you down for doing
something that you like.  if you wanna sit behind a computer screen go for it. 
FUCK EVERYONE who wants to put you down.  i feel bad for making fun of other
people for doing what they want.  let people live their life in peace, if it
makes you laugh then laugh.  just dont make them feel bad.  and for heavens
sake FUCKING ROCK ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


-----------------
: New Port Suck :
:     by gir    :
-----------------

I saw this movie last week that was really bad.  One of those instances when a
straight to rental movie is just absolute suck and there's very little 
redemption.  (Even if the soundtrack is done by an aphex twin/autechre sounding
group, the movie really sucked.)  The movie "New Port South," is about a 
suburban school and it's oppressive nature concerning the students.  Of course
the predictable plot line for the movie is that the kids have had enough and
rebel against the school.  (Actually most of the rebelling is done by the main
character Maddox, who after reading an article about an ex student of the school
spending all of his time freeing crazy people from asylums, gets the idea that
school is an asylum and it's his duty to free his fellow classmates.  Following
the lead of the crazy guy by way of some old reel to reel recordings, Maddox
convinces his only friends at the school Chris and Clip to help him design 
posters that bad mouth the school.  Chris is the real "hero" of the movie and
Clip is the dorky kid who walks around most of the film with a microphone 
recording his surroundings and you know, has a studio in his room that would 
make most electronic musicians cream their panties.  Anyways, one of the things
that makes this movie bad is the lack of real feeling behind any of the 
characters.  I think what the director was going for was to show that it's not
cool to rebel against your school unless you have some ideas on how to fix it.
So it's a real slam to the gut for anyone who looks at school and goes "Yeah we
should change this and this and this."  Most of the speeches Maddox makes in
the movie are your typical "Man high school sucks so much I wish I wasn't so
restricted, etc etc" and he comes off as being "too edgy."  So by the end of the
movie, Maddox has no followers and is left responsible for all the disruption.
Actually, the end of the movie doesn't make any sense at all and alludes to the
original crazy ex-student and how Maddox is going to end up just like him.  It's
a really stupid movie.

Part of the thing that struck me odd about the movie was this fear that all the 
time in high school while I was ranting about how bad school really was and how
they weren't teaching us at all, that I might have sounded like this kid.  Then
I realize no, that whole angsting out about school thing is something every kid
goes through, what is portrayed in "New Port South" is just a really bad movie.

However, I do like to take a handful of thinking fuel away from a movie no 
matter how bad it is and this one got me thinking about all the ranting and
yelling we do that is just blowing steam.  I mean it's great to voice your
opinion but there's more to say then "____ (fill in the blank) sucks."  Put some
oomph and reasoning behind statements like that.  Regurgitating your angst will
just negate the effect of speaking out in disagreement.  Educating yourself 
about a topic before you declare your final opinion about it is an important
thing.  Not only will it make you sound like you know what you are talking 
about, but you will know what you are talking about and in overall discussion,
that'll prove damn cool.

Especially in today's world where there's so much apathy and lack of reasoning
behind making decisions.  Look at all the tired and worn out examples I can come
up with... the presidential election, abortion, war, capital punishment, sxe, 
sex, drugs, any moral decision you might be able to make, etc!  The list could 
go on, but you've probably heard it all before.  If you aren't standing firm in 
your beliefs, why bother to voice them at all?

Many of us have been raised to believe what our parents taught us to believe and
because at one point in time that had significant influence over us, we accepted
these beliefs and went about our ways.  We grow up and decide to rebel against
our parents belief structure, but what about when the rebellion's over?  What if
some of the things our parent's taught us to believe in were noble causes?  In
our attempts at reckless youth did we consider that?

Not to disagree with anyone's parents, I'm just wondering if anyone out there
spends as much time as they should on where their values lie and for what 
reasons.  It's something I know I don't do as much as I should.  But that's
cause I work at a movie store and spend all my time watching crappy movies like
"New Port South."  And I'll stand firm in that excuse, it's a really crappy
movie...


------------------------
:    Concert Review    :
: Stromkern / Seabound :
:       10.03.02       :
:     by koolpeith     :
------------------------

Yesterday night I saw some jump-around-and-stomp-to music, and I also saw 
Seabound.  The night began with me forgetting my ATM card, and then not 
realizing that I DID, in fact, have enough money to attend the show.  The only 
other time I have been to Alcemy was for the Futureperfect Tour with Haujobb and
VNV Nation.  My god, what a show.  Aside from filling the house with as many 
types of people as you can think of, VNV Nation blew me away with how stunning 
they were in live performance.  Haujobb was un-frekin'-believable as well.  In 
preparation for this week's show, I previewed some of Seabound's stuff (as I 
have never listened to them).  I can't say I have listened to any of Stromkern 
either, except for Heretic, but that doesn't really count.  Stromkern opened, 
and oh man did they open.  The lead singer, who came out in slacks, long-sleeved
shirt and tie, opened the show up with a bang, pounding the lyrics strongly and 
clearly into the mic while I made an ass of myself on the dance floor.  Only two
songs they played didn't drive me to hop around throughout the ENTIRE song, and 
they were clearly not meant to.  Seabound's performance was cool, but definitely
not up to par.  My par is probably a LITTLE (notice the large font for "little")
skewed, as I have been spoiled by some of the best performances Nation has seen.
Seabound's sound on album is awesome at best, but the live concert didn't seem 
to dive me to love the music as much as Haujobb did.  The lyrics weren't as 
powerful and fun as Ronan Harris.  Seabound didn't make me want to dance 
manically as Stromkern had.  Funny though, in previewing the bands via my 
friend's CD collection, I was sure I would have to suffer through Stromkern's 
set to get to Seabound.  I'm not in any way saying that Seabound was less than 
good, but rather I feel Stromkern's arrangement of EBM sounds and white Hip Hop 
influence shrink-wrapped in a package from Madison Wisconsin carried me by the 
eardrums to the dancefloor, giving me lots of blisters and lots of bragging to 
complain/explain the next day.  The next big Shindig at Alchemy will be Goth III
on Halloween.  Hoccio and Haujobb, both extremely awesome groups will be 
playing, and rumor holds that Bella Morte is scheduled to appear.  Me being a 
little Progressive House bitch, I'm still pissing my pants because Buzz 
is...well...there is not more Buzz.  Thank god for downloading the Essential 
Mix.


--------------------
: Cynthia's Puppet :
:       Show       :
:      by gir      :
--------------------

If you didn't know who she was, you'd think Cynthia was just picking her ass
when you first walked by her.  It wasn't like that at all.  She was an
entertainer, not some lazy sack of potatoes.  She worked hard to make her 
talents work hard for her.  The second time you'd pass by, it wouldn't make 
sense what was so special about a women with no legs who could pick her ass, 
but then you'd realize that wasn't the attraction.

When she was younger and even though the show was long since over, Howdy Doody
was always Cynthia's favorite childhood hero.  Like other kids of the time she
liked Sesame Street too, but it was for the same reason she liked Howdy Doddy:
they were puppets.

What made puppets so interesting anyways?  Not a day goes by that I don't think
about how cool the muppets were just because they were fuzzy monsters and ever
so friendly but, Cynthia was the type who liked the idea of being able to
manipulate inanimate objects.  In fact, she felt that the right amount of
manipulating breathed life into these objects, especially when a talented
ventriloquist gave the puppet a life.

On the third pass by Cynthia's performance, you notice the man promoting her
is bent over backward with his megaphone aimed out of his asshole.

"Come one, come all!  See the amazing Cynthia and her puppet!  After years of
practice, Cynthia has perfected this talent so much that the illusions will bend
your perceptions of reality like a twig.  Watch and be amazed!"

Curious as to why this promoter is talking out of his asshole, you circle around
once more and she the legless Cynthia naked and sitting on the edge of a
makeshift stage blushing as she performs.  The crowd is just as nervous in
anticipation.

"Stop picking at your asshole, you dumb bitch!"

A slightly large man calls out at her and the rest of the crowd laughs like some
crowds do, but others just scowl at him and silently cheer on Cynthia.  They
know that her talent takes concentration and it's worth the wait.  And in their
moments of silence, the show goes on...

"Sir, I know it might look like Cynthia's reaching for her asshole, but if she
were really playing with an asshole, well we'd have to be allowed to touch
spectators like yourself.  You're certainly the biggest asshole I've ever seen."

In classic crowd clamor, laughter erupts at the heckler and he slinks off into
the crowd embarressed.  That voice, it's more than just Cynthia, it's her
vagina!  Flapping away like the town's best gossiping circles, Cynthia was
making her vagina talk.

"You'll have to excuse me.  I think I have bad breath.  I haven't had a chance
to freshen up since my last performance.  But if you bear with me I promise an
exciting show.  To the audience members closer to the stage, you might want to
keep your distance if you want to avoid any spiddle that might occur during my
performance.  I get into the act and really worked up.  If by chance I do get
you a lil wet, take no offense.  Everyone's welcome to join in."

And there's a roll of mixed laughter as Cynthia adjusts her arm behind her.  The
movements of her lips mimicking the hand controlling them through her rear end.
She smiles at the audience as a group of middle aged women step to the front.
Protesters, she was sure of it.

"Attention audience members.  Pay no attention to this devilish witch!  She's
perverting you!  Advert your eyes from all of her tricks.  Do not let her sinful
ways prevent you from seeing how wrong this really is."

"Hag, step down.  You don't know what you're saying.  This isn't about sin, it's
another exploitation of a woman's body and a disabled woman at that.  The owners
of this stage are the ones to be ashamed, no the crowd.  You seek to point the
finger at the wrong person."

Like most of her shows, this one turns into a battle of the protesters.  After
the first few shows got mixed reviews as a result, Cynthia and her writers knew
it'd add to the piece.  So every night right as the hags and the feminists got
into a blood embrace you saw Cynthia redirect the audience's attention to her
as she removed her hand from her asshole and still went on with the act.

"I MAKE IT KNOWN..." in the most booming voice she knew to make, "THAT THIS ACT
IS OF MY OWN FREE WILL.  I DO NOT INTEND TO OFFEND ANYONE ANYWHERE WITH THE
TALENTS I HAVE BUT I KNOW THAT CAN BE A PROBLEM.  THIS IS WHY I WILL ALLOW ANY
OF YOU IN THE AUDIENCE TO FULLY REFUND YOUR TICKETS IF YOU ARE NOT SATISFIED
WITH MY ACT.  I THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.  DO ENJOY THE SHOW."

The audience was stunned that Cynthia's vagina went on talking without the use
of her arm and as such  when the show ended nobody asked for a refund.  It went
on this way and the show traveled the country many times over before anyone
realized the fact that unlike the talking asshole, Cynthia was a very talented
ventriloquist.


----------------------
: In The Wake Of The :
:    Angstmonster    :
:     by oregano     :
----------------------

   Three hills distant there is a puffy smoke.  Between here and there the earth
is scorched.  The trees are not barren, but the green leaves now are singed on 
the edges and are covered with a fine, sooty film.  The bark is blackened.  Life
goes on.  The angst monster has passed.
   My hut is just a little writer's shed made of metal.  Not very thick, but 
strong enough.  I go through this every two weeks.  Gir does it all the time.  
His hut - the editor's hut - is concrete and is now completely black.  After 
each round he has a group of midgets who exit the editor's house and with garden
hoes scrape off all the bitterness and resentment left by the angst monster.
   As I stand outside my hut I can see the sky begin to clear in the direction 
behind me.  Compare that to ahead of me where the sky roils and churns with 
darkness and chaotic winds.  There is screaming from that darkness, but mostly 
there is laughter.  But nothing to laugh along with.  It is hateful and scornful
and mocking.
   I look down and there is a bird who hops out from under a matting of straw.  
The straw smolders with some wispy white smoke but is mostly intact.  The bird  
peeps a little and hearing another peep not far away, opens its wings and takes 
to the sky in that direction.  I dust off a flower and again a white and yellow 
face shines in the light.  The sunshine renews its strength as the haze in the  
air dissipates.
   I walk down my hill and then step cautiously over a rushing stream full of
branches and leaves and then I walk up a bouldery path to gir's compound.  No
writer died in this brush with the angst monster, but it is best to check in any
way.  Two more weeks and we do it all over again.


æææææææææææææææææææ
æ Æfterthought(s) æ
æææææææææææææææææææ

When I get to being done with all this editing I'm supposedly doing, I never can
think of anything to say except thanks for reading, thanks for submitting,
thanks for even pretending to care, etc etc.  It's slow moving sometimes, but a
whole mess of fun.  Maybe there should be a funny joke or something like that at
the end of each issue.  

Dj Krush is really good.  Something about downtempo beat driven music that will
always explode into the atmosphere around me and stuff...

It makes me wanna go make love to my drum machine.

That said, we're done.  See you in two weeks, post hippie camp and all that.


?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿

What you have just read was a step into the unknown spontaneous and poorly
edited thoughts for sharing collectively known as "Angstmonster."  All thoughts
on the matter can be sent to <gir@angstmonster.org> or you can just visit the
site http://www.angstmonster.org and see what you think.  (But I won't promise
any content to anyone.)  Submissions of all sorts are welcome!  Everything from
prose and poetry to rants and opinions, creative text art, recipes for yummy
food, reviews of stuff, etc.

Thanks and enjoy your day...

copyright 2002							        issue 10
angstmonster.org							10.7.02

Feel free to redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the 
content must not be altered or modified in any way.  Unauthorized use of any 
part of this document is prohibited.  All rights reserved.  (and stuff) 

