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   * 9.9.02           		 angstmonster                      issue 8 *  
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                            ¡edited (poorly) by gir¡	
		
   It wasn't over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor, and it ain't over now!

            (That's because this is the HAPPY BIRTHDAY OF DOOM ISSUE!)
	          I'm wishing myself a Happy Birthday and giving
		the world the gift of a new issue of angstmonster!!!	       

*+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++¡contents¡+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++*
+                                                                              +
+ Brief Words from gir                                                         +
+ Pukka pukka pukka squeetily dee                               The Muffin Man +
+ Tfile                                                         ch33z-1t       +
+ Stan Foolery                                                  gir            +
+ Stuffs                                                        Kool Peith     +
+ In Bloom                                                      oregano        +
+ Rainy Days                                                    gir            +
+ Do You Like Shiney Things?                                    tildaq & gir   +
+                                                                              +
*+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++¡contents¡+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++*


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

It's morning o clock and I was laying in bed thinking about a few things like
how using the word tfile a hell of a lot of times made me feel really ill in
the stomach (but that might just be the food talking)  because I never seem
to sleep well on a full stomach. But either way, the third special release of
angstmonster was something that I probably shoulda just given a day or deleted
or done whatever it is a person's supposed to do when their ideas pond starts
to shrivel up.  All those distractions weren't as cool as I thought they'd be
but that happens sometimes.

So what am I in such a fit about that I decided to drag my laptop into bed with
me rather than relax into the abyss?  Just rethinking the whole tfile scene
thing and how when I started all of this nonsense a little over a month ago it
wasn't about being part of the scene or anything, I just wanted to release
something into the world in hopes for response.  Of course, I've gotten a few
of them response thingies and I really dug it so I want more.  The downside I
suppose is always feeling like I missed the "scene" I woulda fit into best.

It's funny because sometimes I feel like I'm sending this into the past to be
swallowed up by the rise of the tfile groups and what not.  But I don't feel
like I'm part of that group.  Sure I'd consider this a tfile (and I need to stop
using that word ever other sentence) but something feels off.  I've spent the
past couple of days asking people what they think about the scene and hwat it
was and why it isn't anymore and it just seems like I'm another bit of a
nostalgic run off into the world that got drowned out by the Internet.  I am
starting to wonder if other people who consider themselves tfile authors feel 
the same way, if what's been said and done the passed couple of years is just a
cry out to the past because we missed it...

In getting all worked up about the idea and ready to defend myself before I
thought threw it, I arrived quickly at the opinion that an ezine or tfile was
merely the medium in which one chose to express himself.  Just because someone
writes a book doesn't mean that he's part of the crew who hung out at the 
Gutenberg Press or anything.  (That isn't to say that I wasn't inspired by
many of the different textfiles I've read for as long as I can remember.)  Like
most who have braved this front in the years past and weeks recent, I've always
found something really appealing about tfiles, the look and the ethic behind
them.  At the same time, I never uploaded any of my creations to a BBS as a
way to communicate with my peers.

The last time I made something like this (online) was back in 98, before my
days in any scene, when the only tfiles I knew about where CDC and the Anarchist
Cookbook variants (as well as some of the more famous hack/phreak files)  I had
this idea that I'd start an ezine called "Booger Samwhiches For the Soul" and 
by the end of that night, 16 of my friends (or people I talked to a lot online)
had received an email from me with the subject of "Booger Samwhiches For the
Soul."  It wasn't anything special but a bunch of intentional misspellings
because it "looked cooler that way" and I was "expressing my individuality."
But it lasted for about half a year in biweekly form and it kept me entertained.

With angstmonster I feel like I'm in a similar situation.  When I released the
first issue, I sent it to anyone I thought might be interested in it, got little
response and decided I'd write another one because it was really fun.  It's
still fun now, even though I'm not sure about what's going on.  BSFtS wasn't
about being a tfile, it was about giving all my friends (who I knew wrote stuff)
a chance to share it with all my other friends (who I knew liked reading stuff)
and I would say doing angstmonster has become the same thing but then I'd be
lying.  (But that's only because I'm lacking in submissions and more people I
don't know at all have probably read angstmonster than ever laid eyes on BSFtS.)

And where is all this going?  It's an apology, for being to eager to latch on
to any sense of scene and not put what's most important first, the content/art.
But it's different now, knowing more of the tfile scene and it's current state,
I mean everyone who has the need and feeling in them to create should be trying
this, or at least sharing it.  (Not angstmonster, but the concept of tfiles in
general)  It's hard to describe the pleasure in pouring over some bits of random
text and never really making their ends meet, but it's something I really enjoy
and if I can keep myself in the right mind (or left of boring) than I promise
an interesting run for angstmonster.

(That isn't to say that I won't continue to spew nonsense and subliminal adds
about visiting places like http://scene.textfiles.com  Part of the only reason
I've gotten readers is because of them.  Part of the reason I'm there is 
because I emailed BMC to say "hey, look at me!  I'm making a zine, I hope it 
doesn't suck.  Why don't you tell me it doesn't suck" and instead he puts it on
the site.)

So here I am lying on my bed staring at the wall in between sentences and
uncompleted thoughts wondering where all of this will tie in to the original
gripe (and it never will) but I go on, ever forward!  

When it's all said and done, I get a kick out of the fact that when someone
reads something he is compelled to respond, not just to the author, but to the
world.  The fact that CDC or BLaH or IBFT or HOE or any other really influential
tfiles have spawned countless others is really fucking cool.  But it's not just
a tfile thing, it's a creation thing.  People digging what others like them
are doing and realizing they can do it to.  And let the waves of people come and
go, sometimes those fluxes will result in more really fucking cool things and if
they don't, it wasn't a loss...

In the end all full circle like, bitching about the ideas about the "scene" have
given me more of a reason to say it was something really cool and I am glad
that some people consider me a part of it.  And if that's not enough, doing this
gives me something to talk about.


-----------------------
:  Pukka pukka pukka  :
:   squeetily dee     :
: (Fraggle Rock song) :
:   transcribed by    :
:   The Muffin Man    :
-----------------------

I believe in magic words
I believe in love
I believe in buried treasure
Falling from above!

One more time the world goes round
One more magic day
Now I've learned the magic sounds
That speed it on it's way!

And it goes pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily boink
Sweet melody
Pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily boink
Neat harmony!

Woah pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily boink
That's music to me
Pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily boink
Pukka pukka squeetily dee!

You can learn the magic too
You can learn to sing
You can learn the special words
That live in every thing!

Teach your ear to hear the stones
Listen to the tree
Magic is as magic does
And it lives in you and me!

And it goes pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily boink
Sweet melody
Pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily boink
Neat harmony!

Woah pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily boink
That's music to me
Pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily boink
Pukka pukka squeetily dee!

Pukka pukka squeetily dee
Pukka pukka pukka pukka squeetily dee!


---------------
:    Tfile    :
: by ch33z-1t :
---------------

Fingernails go thru time as good friend to a human. Think about all the uses a
fingernail has.  The most obvious is the picking of your nose.  How in the fuck
are you going to get a booger without a finger nail.  I got news for you. you're
not getting that bitch without a fingernail.  what kind of friend would go into
a mucus filled cavity and pick a hardened piece of mucus.  ill tell you what.
i'm not doing that for anyone.  so it takes a pretty good friend to pick a
booger.  also what about all that damn scratching.  i would hate to be moved
along a piece of skin grating at it like i am digging for gold.  hey i usually
say that when i talk about boogers.  digging for gold.  the only benefit of
being a fingernail, is you are the first part of the finger to enter the
vaginal cavity.  while you are soaking up the fresh pussy juice the base down
out the other end it sitting high and dry.  man that would suck to be a finger
base.  fuck that shit. what the hell do you do cool?  move it.  i think you are
a useless piece of the finger.


----------------
: Stan Foolery :
:    by gir    :
----------------

"Alright, you can go just be quick about it."

Stan grinned at his manager as he walked out the door before any of the 
customers could stop and ask him dumb questions.  Once outside, he looked for a
clean spot against the wall to sit down and pulled out his newest habit, a pack
of unfiltered menthol cigarettes.  He continued to dig through his pockets until
he found a matchbook he'd taken from some restaurant.  Pulling one of death's
fingers out of the smushed pack, he quickly lit it and inhaled all the sweet joy
that is nicotine and tobacco.

"Stan?  Oh wow, you're Stan aren't you?  I see you all the time at our store but
you don't really say much.  You just sit there really quietly and drink your
coffee and write in that little book of yours.  But like I never see you smoke.
In fact I thought you didn't smoke, wow.  I guess it fits your style though huh?
All lonely and sipping on some coffee, brooding over who knows what and slyly
sneaking outside for a quick smoke.  But I've never seen you smoke before, did
you just start?"

The blur of words and voices were just one girl, and her name was Andrea.  As
far as Stan knew, he didn't exist to her but she just proved him wrong.  And 
even though his mind rushed just as fast (if not faster) as she was talking, he
was caught off guard by her.

"Hey, you know who I am?"

"Of course!  Our whole store knows you!  That's the weird thing about places 
that serve the public.  It doesn't take us long to figure out who our usuals
are.  Sometimes we'll talk to them whenever they come in but with you it's seems
different.  You just look like you don't wanna talk to anyone."

Stan sucked on the end of his cigarette, inhaling as much of the rush as he
could in one huff.  Being fairly new to the whole idea, it wasn't hard for him
to get a lightheaded feeling from smoking.  This was throwing him off while
talking to Andrea and he was really more interested in the buz as it was.

"You guys just have really good coffee.  And your cookies are the best in town.
If I could get them from my kitchen, I probably wouldn't come down there so
often."

Inhale a puff...

"That's silly.  Who wants to spend all their time locked away in their room?
Doesn't it get boring?  Don't you want to interact with other people?"

And exhale...

"It's not so bad.  It's solitude and that's a powerful force in the world.  
Most people get too worried that if they enjoy the feeling, then there is 
something wrong with them.  People can be ok sometimes but when you work at a
place like this, you get a fill of them really quick.  But you work with the
public too so I am sure it's no different."

And inhale again...

"Actually it's a lot different.  Most of the people that come by our place don't
really give us much trouble.  Occasionally you get people who don't dig the vibe
but most of the regulars are really friendly.  Like I said, we just get to know
the people we work with and keep a comfy feel to the place.  But when you aren't
part of a chain, it's like that."

Stan started laughing as he exhaled (which made him begin to cough)  The idea of
working for a chain store didn't really make him happy but it was a job and he
had bills to pay, things to save up for, and the like.  His bill at the cafe
Andrea worked at was enough of a reason to work.  There coffee was really damned
good.

"Are you ok?  Maybe you shouldn't smoke Stan..."

"Heh, it's just one of those things.  A way to ignore all the shit in there.  I
don't really like smoking, I just figured that if I convinced work that I smoke
then I could take a break every couple of hours.  They don't like to give breaks
very of-"

He was cut of mid-explanation by a tapping on the other side of the glass.  The
manager saw that Stan's attention had been diverted to the attractive Andrea and
she couldn't get in the way of Stan's work.

"Heh, I guess I should be going.  This such a bullshit job anyways."

"Yeah, well how else are you going to pay for your coffee?"

She laughs and Stan smiles.  Andrea was one of those girls that was all the more
attractive when she laughed.

"But I'll tell you what Stan.  Come by the store tonight and I'll give you a cup
on the house.  And I'll take my break and sit down and chat with you, if that's
ok..."

Suddenly Stan felt like he was in some cheesy romance movie.  The same girl he
happened to daydream (and write a whole lot about) just so happened to stop by
his store and ended up inviting him to talk to her over a cup of coffee.  She
didn't say the word "date" but that didn't stop Stan's heart from racing, his
curious look becoming overwhelmed and beginning to wonder about tonight.  He'd
finally find out what she thought about, if she was anything like he'd dreamt up
and if that really mattered...

But the manager was knocking on the glass again as Stan got up and dusted his 
pants off.  He smiled when he looked back up at Andrea.

"I'll be sure to stop by."

"Ok!  See you then Stan!"

As he walked in the door, he felt fuckin invincible.  The evil scowl of his 
manager couldn't penetrate the aura his goofy grin was giving off.  For all Stan
knew, he was in some cheesy movie and the holy moment he was experiencing was
about to break away to some more important set across town where the action was
really going on.  But that didn't matter.  And as he walked by, the manager
barked out:

"Get on the floor and help people."

So Stan went and his goofy grin aura floated all around him...

(it might just be one of those "to be continued..." things!)


-----------------
:    Stuffs     :
: by Kool Peith :
-----------------

I've yet to dream of worse things than what I am feeling right now.  When I look
into her eyes; lost, dazed, and taken by her smooth, chocolate eyes, I still 
feel weak.  It will never be the same though.  Today I realized that everything
I do has a VERY direct impact on my life.  Something as simple as a 'yes' or 
'no' just flipped my life, world, and universe onto a completely different axis.
It is hard for me to realize that I am sitting at my computer, typing my sorrows
about something as trivial as the gist of a "Dawson's Creek" episode.  Maybe the
reason that this is so hard is the same reason so many other parts of life are 
hard.  The most difficult thing to do is to close a chapter of your existence; 
whether it be moving away from friends, loosing a loved one, or seeing your 
children move away to college, everything that involves an "end" to these 
chapters we define our lives by is what causes the most sting.  Today I made the
most responsible decision in my life.  Or the biggest mistake.  That's the 
trouble with these things.  Today I cried a thousand times.  I died a thousand 
times.  I learned a thousand things about myself.  All I have to do now is wait;
wait to see if I really am better off.  I write this at 2.50 am with some people
who I don't know blowing smoke in my face.  I am tired.  I am alive.


--------------
:  In Bloom  :
: by oregano :
--------------

I came through the trees to a large open field. Barely, in the far distance, 
were other trees -- the field was enclosed 100% -- though big enough to think
about the Earth being curved.  In the field were giant flowers, 40 feet across,
blowing full in the wind.  I watched them dance in the bright morning light.  
Then it came to me.  They were parachutes and they were all sorts of colors, 
blooming big in the field, held in place by long strings to humans: men and 
women.  They shouted, wanting the flowers back in the packs.  The flowers 
collapsed one by one and the field went from full bloom back to grass rather 
quickly.  The people rolled up the dead flowers and snaggled the strings and 
packed them away and then ran off the field into the trees. I would never see 
them again.


--------------
: Rainy Days :
:   by gir   :
--------------

I'm sitting here munching down on the last of my microwaved lasagna leftovers 
(having since escaped out of my computer!  Thanks again to all the monsters in
the know who made it possible.  Someday my story can be told, but not yet.  I'm
not ready...) and I thought it'd be cool to type up my feelings on earlier this
morning (9:30 or so) when I was driving around in the rain and getting lost
downtown.  Of course, the musical choice was VNV Nation and even though I was 
tired it was a fun little misadventure.  It's good to know it's still raining
cause hopefully that means we won't have any fucking customers today at work
but then again I'm not sure if people will risk getting wet to rent a couple of
DVD's.  (Hopefully not)

"And if rain brings winds of change, let it rain on us forever." -VNV Nation

It's after work and things weren't too bad, but I've noticed that as cool as
rain is, I like it partially because it brings me down to a mood of sighfulness.
I think everyone has that sort of feeling about things, we like the unhappy
thoughts, but why?  Is it because they make the happy thoughts better?  Nah.  At
least, I don't think that.  It's a matter of defining existence with pain and
suffering.  IT's very easy to go through the better moments of life and not 
think much of them, taking them for granted, etc.  And then all the bad shit
happens and we dwell on it, it's what sells newspapers and ratings and such.  
The whole "if it bleeds, it leads" mantra.  Even independent news focuses on the
negative (the fact that their big brother counterparts suck, or that someone is
doing something fucked up and mainstream media isn't reporting on it.)  In doing
good we are still about focusing on some bad to hook ya, WTF!

There's always more to talk about when something is going shitty.  One doesn't
have to look far to find people wanting to outdo one another's misfortunes.
Especially online, it's something that online journals feed off of.  It's a race
to have a shittier life than the node next to you, and if you win, what do you
have to brag about?  Because someone else is going to beat you.  In fact the
whole idea of beating someone, just leaves the loser with more negativity than
you so in fact, they actually when your important race and then you suck for
winning but losing to a loser so you get to win it again and it's a big circle
of shite.

All the same, rainy days make me wanna sleep forever.


---------------------
:   Do You Like     :
:  Shiney Things?   :
: by tildaq and gir :
---------------------

"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

"I think I just misspelled "shiny."

"WHATISSSYour major nalfunction!"

"I'm not supposed to fix that...  A plan he continues to rant about, a glorious
plan that's about to erupt in my face and burn up the sky like matches.  Some
sort of pollution, a hallucination.  It's kinda wierd, don't you think?"

"Yes"

"If this was a battle rap, I'd blow you out of the water, sink your fuckin'
battle ship, pull a rip in your shorts, suck your tanks dry like a whore, 
bleeding edge come back, come back to the one and the two, come back and help
me, please help me.  I'm not so sure either."

"If pain was a cult, I be the laeder, the leader. You can understand until you 
are faced with generalizations, the dribbles of water of information. Challenge
your skills"

"But when you exhale, like a rush of watter, I thought I ought to tell you bout
my story,  because I know when you step up close, it's time to go!  ROLL with me
COME ON ROLL!  It's not what you think it is, I it's just a song.  So stop, stop
telling me that my lyrics did so much for me.  Just remember...  when I wake up
I'm looking back and feeling like a crook."

"Wait, what's this?  Did you just steal my piece out from under me, I think you
didn't just get this turn and I went back up to start the burn, burning on me-
keeping coming, that's what I said..."

"As a doctor of the law, i can clearly see you're nuts. But aren't we all a 
little crazy sometimes, like times when two things come together to filter out 
society."

"And stop, please stop cause I know what your saying.  Geeze doc I feel like we
are finally communicating and if I can keep it up, do you think it've been
enough to help me, I just want in.  Please doc,  You must know what I'm 
feeling."

"i think we all need to go back to the old school with Drunken Ronald McDonald"

"You're right!"

"We're always right"

"Who?"

"i'll give you one piece of advice, Avoidgeneralizations"

"What are you talking about? Who are you"

"i want a twinkie and sex"

"I've said it once and I'll say it again, I feel like things aren't going well
and I'm not going to be able to keep up with you much longer.  I apologize in
advance, as I always do, but I just want you to know how much you mean to me,
all the things we've been through."

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, (or aren't)...I made the rules, I made the 
cash, you made the mistakes!"

"From the beginning, I was all about you, so fucking dedicated and what are you
going to do?"

"We're done."


æææææææææææææææææææ
æ Æfterthought(s) æ
æææææææææææææææææææ

Bigger, longer, and un-fucking-cut.  We deliver (even if it takes us a couple of
tries to get it right)  But for now, enjoy the thoughts of others all up in this
angstmonster.  And if you're bored, wish me a happy birthday of doom.

Until next time...


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

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 8
angstmonster.org							9.9.02

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) 

