<<>> ************************ PARTHENOGENESIS ISSUE #4 ************************ Issue Four, Volume One, November, 1992. Published more or less monthly. All rights reserved, all lefts under consideration. Any resemblance to persons, places, or turnips, living, dead, or retired, is a complete fabrication by the reader and as such is not admissible evidence in court. Please, no hemorrhaging, and remember.... oh well, nevermind, I forgot. Editor: Mohammed X. Contributors for this issue: Mohammed X, Adam Five, Bill Lee, Ben Hunter. May your sexual members swell to enormous size. Also thanks to everyone who reads this zine. Send me your letters with comments, submissions, or just plain anything! Parthenogenesis 804 S.College Suite 8363 Ft.Collins, CO 80524 * TIMOTHY LEARY: THE PARTHENOGENESIS INTERVIEW NOTE: This interview was conducted in the near future somewhere high above Dr. Leary's current home in Southern California. The good doctor, still notorious for his advocacy of LSD during the 1960's, these days is interested in almost everything. -- Bill Lee LEE: What do you think of the recent phenomenon of PARTHENOGENESIS which has been detected in Fort Collins, Colorado? LEARY (a big grin): What I'm actually thinking about is the sexuality of artificial intelligence, that is, solid-state entities. By definition of course, parthenogenesis is a global phenomenon that goes back at least 3-1/2 billion years or more, in terms of biocomputer wetware and sloppy disks produced by DNA. In terms of techno frontiers of human reproduction, parthenogenesis finally allows our sexual pleasure to be completely separated from reproductive responsibility. Making babies can be done artificially, or the old-fashioned way, by choice. That's a great idea, since erotic enjoyment should always be maximized. Sexual frustration remains the root cause of all our worst problems. LEE: I'm thinking specifically of this subversive zine... LEARY: All right, (long pause) it seems that this rag called PARTHENOGENESIS embodies an intriguing schism between its content and actual means of reproduction. THe contents are brilliantly irrational in a way that most likely inspires revulsion, awe, hilarity, or complete incomprehension from its readers. In terms of its actual printing, it does its best to escape the Gutenberg lock on an artist's singularity, and nearly destroys itself in the process... the only way it can survive. It violates its own premise, which is how it succeeds. The printing process is ejaculatory. LEE: How do you mean that? LEARY (giggling): In terms of erotic gratification for the intelligent machines that are increasingly participating in our post-symbolic reality-fabrication... the quantum psychological states we are now capable of. You see, since the invention of the printing press, people increasingly mistook whatever was printed, for reality, but it fixed and froze what the writer said. A classic Catch-22. Only now... LEE: I don't quite understand. LEARY: The text of PARTHENOGENESIS appears to be mostly produced on PCs. The writers themselves were most likely conceived via sexual union in the traditional way. The layouts themselves are apparently reproduced upon copy-machines, which are semi- intelligent these days. In the process of such reproduction those machines are experiencing erotic gratification of a cybersexual sort, even if it is basically masturbatory. Just watch one of them at work, rubbing itself back and forth, humming and groaning, flashing brightly at the end of each stroke! Can you deny that such machine intelligences enjoy themselves when they are repeating and repeating whatever it is they are designed to do over and over again? Cybersex is like picking the Gutenberg lock. LEE: I'm not sure. It's a bit mind-boggling. LEARY: Most things are, if you notice them at all, Bill. But that's only the beginning. Ten years from now you might understand what I'm suggesting, and the implications for readers of this PARTHENOGENESIS zine, well, I'll leave that to you to figure out. A little brain damage never hurts anyone who is too smart for their own good! This zine, a I see it, is only a flexible and amorphous safety device, nothing in itself until it is being used. It facilitates an interface between perverse anarchism of the contributors, and their victims in the general public. It's like a condom that allows uninhibited promiscuity on both sides, with relative if not absolute safety. LEE: Do you suggest, ahum, that the PCs and copy-machines actually get a kind of pleasure from the whole process? LEARY: Why not? (chuckling) What the readers get out of it is entirely up to them, unless they choose to get involved in the rest of it, which is probably a lot more fun. LEE: Okay, I'll think about all that. Now, how about the matter of your plans to have your head removed and cryogenically frozen when you die? LEARY: A practical measure, Bill. If there's a possibility my brain can be revived at some later date, why not give it a try? LEE: Maybe I can interview you again then, and ask you what it was like. LEARY: If it's you, (giggling) then we might have to call it the Talking Heads interview, eh? * "Love is two minutes fifty-two seconds of squishing noises. It shows your mind isn't clicking right." - JOHNNY ROTTEN * ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! GROUND UNDER'S WRITING CONTEST ------------ Submissions are being accepted for Best Short Story ($30), Nonfiction ($10), and Poetry ($10). All entries will be considered for publication. Send submissions on disk [IBM or MAC ASCII] or hardcopy to : Shadow Publications, 305 W.Magnolia Suite 312, Ft.Collins, CO 80521. Or if you have a modem, upload the material in ASCII [300-9600 bps]: (data) (303)484-4572. GROUND UNDER wants all types and all topics. The only requirement is good writing. Write to the above address or call the above number for more information. SUPPORT UNDERGROUND PRESSES AND KEEP FREE SPEECH ALIVE! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! * THE ADVENTURES OF THE DIME AND THE QUARTER by Dan Herrick CHAPTER ONE (Continued from last issue) She then felt a slight tap on her shoulder. She whirled around three times (once for practice, another for good luck, and the last for the real thing) and stood face-to-face with a normal looking man. The man was wearing a plaid shirt, plaid pants, plaid suit jacket, plaid tie, plaid shoes, plaid socks, and had plaid hair. "Excuse me," the quarter (no, dollar) asked politely, "But one couldn't help but wonder if you're wearing plaid underwear also." The plaid man coughed discreetly, ignored the question, and said, "Madam Quar- er, Dollar, I happened to hear your cry for assistance, and thought I might be of service. I represent the Internal Revenue Service (that's IRS to you!)." "Well," responded the QuarDollar dizzily, "I don't quite see I have any other choice. Go ahead. Do what needs to be done." "No problem!" smiled the plaid man, leading her to a conveniently located ambulance. "All we need to do is a little major invasive surgery, and you'll be as good as new!" "Does that include a free polish?" asked She-Who-Was-Once-A- Quarter-But-Is-Now-A-Dollar-But-Is-Soon-To-Have-The-Situation- Corrected. "Absolutely!" the plaid man cried gaily, bludgeoning to death a small african violet who happened to wander across his path. A measly sixty-nine hours later, the quarter exited the IRS Clinic, good as new and with a fresh polish to boot. "See, I told you!" the plaid IRS man grinned, walloping a security guard across the forehead, "Mint condition!" "Thank you again!" the quarter cried happily, waving and walking briskly away from the clinic. "Think nothing of it!" giggled the plaid man, and machine- gunned a group of thirty or so people who were waiting in line for a bus. The bus was late. The quarter noticed his strange behavior not at all. She was busy gleefully walking down the street, happy to be restored to her natural state. Suddenly, a light bulb appeared in the air above her head! "What the hell is that for?" she wondered, and idly dashed it against a nearby brick wall. The myriad tiny pieces of what once was the light bulb tinkled down upon a dirty cloth lying on top of a garbage can, which, in turn, was leaning against the wall. When the critical weight was reached (that being x5), the cloth fell from the trash can, falling onto a shabby bronze lamp which happened to be sitting beside the trash can. The cloth then slid off the lamp .347 seconds later, rubbing it slightly as it fell. A genie suddenly appeared before the quarter, who had been largely unaware of all that had transpired in the last few seconds. "Damn, you're stupid!" the genie scoffed. "What about the dime?" "Well, I suppose the dime's stupid, too." the quarter answered, a bit surprised. "No, no, NO!" cried the genie. "You moron, I MEANT, what are you going to do about the dime?!?" The quarter pondered. "Um...I dunno. Where'd he go?" "Where do you think, you idiotic piece of recycled scrap metal! Heaven! He went to heaven!!" the genie punctuated this not only with two exclamation marks, but with a lightning bolt that destroyed a passing plane high above. "You have to go get him! Why the hell do I even bother with a dimwit flagstroph monominomephastat like YOU!!!" "Oh." "'Oh'? Is that ALL you can say? What a total and complete imbecile! Well, don't expect any more favors from ME, you deflated old has-been traftiful currency!!!" the genie blustered, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. | - - | AUTHOR: Hold on here! This story is suddenly getting very old very fast... or is that very fast very old... or very old & fast... WHATEVER! It's dumb! It's stupid! It's boring, the language is simple, and the audience is too! Something must be done... But what?!? SCRIPTWRITER: A new character? AUTHOR: No... too many already. CAMERAMAN #1: A few more camera zooms on the quarter! AUTHOR: Hmmm... CAMERAMAN #2: A new Cameraman #1! AUTHOR: Shut up. DIRECTOR (With fake French accent): Introduce a French accent to all the characters! AUTHOR: No...! INNOCENT BYSTANDER: Skip the next chapter! AUTHOR: YES! I like it! We'll DO it! | - - | CHAPTER THREE And yea, what came to pass but a miracle, and that miracle was the Great River rising and consuming all who lived alongside it; and lo, what did the people do but wail aloud to their god, who replied: "My people, I hear thy pleas; and yea, my heart bleeds with thine; my arm breaks with thine; my kneecaps shatter with thine; my skin shrivels and peels off with thine; my eyeballs boil and melt with thine; my testicles are stretched to four times their previous length and then bitten off by a rabid hyaena with thine; and I have one thing to say and this I sayeth: Holy Shit, that smarts!" And verily, the people replieth thusly: "But, dear master, god, and otherwise big boss; but, what must we do?" To which their god replieth: "Truly, I say unto thee: I suggest a hot bath." And so, without further ado, | - - | AUTHOR: What the hell...? SCRIPTWRITER: Um...oops. Wrong script. AUTHOR: Geez. | - - | CHAPTER FOUR Suddenly, the quarter found herself at the gates of Heaven. There was nobody around, so she tried to open the gates. They were securely closed and locked. Humming a gospel song to herself, she picked the lock, opened the gates, and walked in. And found herself staring at... nothing. Just a few clouds. "Stupid!" a miniscule voice sounded inside her head. "You already WERE inside Heaven! This is outside!" "Oh." she said, and turned around to open the gates. It was then (not 23 years earlier, on a beach in Norway, as some people like to think) that she noticed the sign on the door. It read, "CLOSED FOR REPAIRS". "Damn," she said, and was instantly cast back down to earth for her blasphemy. And so, the dime was conveniently written out of the story. But soon, the quarter had an encounter with New York City. This left both the quarter and NYC very much confused and distraught, and while the quarter could simply take a vacation to "get away from it all", New York WAS it all. The only thing that poor NYC could do was raise its crime rate by 14%. But sooner than a por old blind crippled schoolteacher thought, the quarter found herself on I-25, just north of Denver. She panicked, and waved to a passing motorist going the other way. THe motorist waved back and continued on his merry way. The quarter found a discarded pizza box, and felt obligated to dispose of it properly, because, as everyone knows, every day is Earth Day. Since the nearest pizza box recycling center was in Denver, she was forced to enter the dreaded city. She did not know why she dreaded the Mile High City so much, except that it may have had something to do with the fact that she wsa once brutally assaulted, robbed, mugged, kidnapped, and eventually murdered in Denver in a past life. So the quarter, being not a dirty copper, walked boldly through the streets of Denver carrying the pizza box. And soon got herself lost. She asked a man in a yellow and red polka- dotted tie which way to the nearest pizza box recycling center, but he simply urinated on the pizza box and walked away. The quarter approached a horse which was tap dancing for the amusement of a few closely-clustered paper bags. "Excuse me," the quarter called to the horse, "but do you know where the nearest pizza box recycling center is?" The horse suddenly stopped his dancing and walked over to the quarter. The paper bags, realizing that the show had ended, drifted off in pairs, rustling quietly amongst themselves. The horse eyed the quarter appraisingly, then spoke. "Let me tell you a story," he said quietly, yet firmly. "Okay." the quarter agreed. "Good." the horse hummed tunelessly to itself for a moment. "It doesn't have a title, though." "Um..." the quarter said, "That's okay." "All right then." the horse nodded, pulled out a cigar, lit it, puffed it twice, farted, stamped his foot three times, and began the story. "Once there was a whale. The whale had a name, the being Yakkkka Yippa. Now Yakkkka was not a typical whale in many respects. First of all, he was purple. Many other whales resented this, and went to great lengths to taunt Yakkkka about it. Also, Yakkkka had a last name. None of the other whales had a last name, and all were fantastically jealous of Yakkkka. The last and final difference, perhaps the most important (then again, perhaps not) was the simple fact that Yakkkka owned a walkman. "The walkman was Yakkkka's pride and joy, and he even named it. He called it Walkman. He listened to it always, whether he was swimming, eating, swimming, or eating (whales have a very mundane existence, as you can see). Well, one day the author decided to introduce a new character, and thus Dorc the Dolphin was born. "Dorc was swimming happily along one day (Dolphins lead a very fun and interesting life. They swim happily all the time. In fact, they get so caught up in this that they occassionally forget to eat or read the newspaper.) when suddenly he ran into Yakkkka. Literally. "'Hey, watch it, dork!' snapped Yakkkka irritatedly. He had just come from an intense taunting session from the other whales, and was in no mood to have dolphins running into him. "Dorc was shocked. 'How'd you know my name?' "But Yakkkka simply ignored Dorc, which made the dolphin very distressed indeed, as he was not used to being ignored. 'Hey!' he blurbled. Yakkkka did not notice. Dorc then stood on his head, trying to attract Yakkkka's attention. This feat is quite simple in water, and so Yakkkka paid no attention to the dolphin's antics. Dorc then began to swim backwards while whistling 'Happy Birthday', 'Joy To the World', and 'Taps' at the same time, backwards. Yakkkka failed to notice. "At this Dorc became angry, not saddened as a lesser character might. He dashed after Yakkkka and grabbed the Walkman away from him. Unfortunately, Dorc had no hands, and could therefore not hold onto the Walkman. It slipped out of his grasp and tumbled lazily to the deep, deep water that no whale (or dolphin) can ever go. 'Oops,' said Dorc. "After calmly skinning Dorc alive, Yakkkka swam off in search of something, anything to get his mind off his lost Walkman. He found nothing, and died a sad and lonely, yet purple, whale." The horse finished his story and his cigar at once. He looked the quarter in the eye. "Where the hell's your eye?" he demanded. "Right here." the quarter gestured. "Okay," said the horse, and proceeded to REALLY look the quarter in the eye. "Do you know what the moral of the story is?" "Well................. No," the quarter confessed. "Neither do I." the horse grinned. "Here, have a walkman." "Thanks!" Surprised, the quarter took the proferred walkman, and watched as the horse trotted away. * "Journalism is the ability to meet the challenge of filling space." - REBECCA WEST * HEY! Tired of digging through the mess of newspapers on coffee- shop counters only to discover there are no more copies of Parthenogenesis left? Well, here's a way to make sure you always have a copy! That's right, a subscription to Parthenogenesis! $5 for a six-month subscription. Take it or leave it. Send check payable to "Dan Herrick" to : Parthenogenesis, 804 S.College Suite 8363, Ft. Collins, CO, 80524. Wheeeeeee!! * "Woe to him inside a nonconformist clique who does not conform with nonconformity." - ERIC HOFFER * APATHY INTERNATIONAL presents: the State of Our Country...! CONSIDER: Corruption runs rampant anywhere we look: government, schools, business, religion. It is now commonly accepted that our politicians do lie, cheat, and steal. Our government is ineffective, buried beneath an avalanche of obsolete checks and balances that succeed only in warping the original intent into a stifling set of "laws" that inhibit instead of freeing us. Our school system is rated among the worst in the world. Instead of expanding our awareness and teaching us to learn, it inhibits creativity and free thought and seeks to make us slaves to form. What it teaches us is not to think for ourselves. Businesses in this nation are generally more effective, humane, and powerful than the government, and still they keep secrets from us that we can never learn. The individual's welfare takes a backseat to the company's profits, to the point of killing its own workers to protect trade secrets. And still, foreign businesses are superior to ours in everything but ego. The dominant religion in this nation is closely tied with the government, no matter what they say, no matter that this government is ideally a separation of church and state. It is not. The religious zealots do all that they can to force other "unbelievers" to their way of thinking, even to the extent of limiting personal freedoms through their connections with the government. Their purpose and process are so far removed from the original intent in their religion that it can not even be considered to be the same religion. Hypocrisy reigns, the "love" that they preach no more than a facade to better themselves at the expense of us. And what can we do about all this? Nothing. There is nothing that we can do to change the problems we can see. We are helpless and insignificant. We can do nothing but watch it happen and hope that it might get better. If you feel the same way, you belong with us. APATHY INTERNATIONAL. Dedicated to the needs of our members. Join us, and we MIGHT make a difference. * "I always keep a supply of stimulant handy in case I see a snake, which I also keep handy." - W.C.FIELDS * You wouldn't believe how many people ask me, "Mohammed, how can I possibly be a NINJA like you?" Well, due to increasing demand, myself and my fellow NINJAS (whom I cannot name) have devised a set of "steps" to becoming NINJA. Yes, you too can learn to be a true NINJA! - Mohammed X THE 69 STEPS TO BECOMING NINJA 1: Buy a black leotard jumpsuit with matching black socks and black cowl that covers all of your head but for your eyes. This is known as 'Ninja garb'. This will prove to all who gaze upon you that you are truly Ninja. (BE SURE TO REMOVE PRICE TAGS!) 2: Memorize this phrase: "He who laughs last, swallow fish; but he who laugh first, IS fish." Quote this to opponents after combat. 3: At random times walking down the street in a busy metropolitan area, do this: fling what you're carrying at the nearest person, dive and/or roll through the door of the nearest business, and WITHOUT TOUCHING THE FLOOR, make your way to the back door and exit. 4: Become proficient at needlepoint. (A true Ninja will know why.) 5: If you ever see another ninja with SWEAT STAINS, kill him/her immediately. If you ever find yourself having sweat stains where someone can see you, slay yourself instantly. Having visible sweat stains is the most dishonorable thing a ninja can do. 6: I can't tell you this one. You must find it our for yourself. 7: Fully comprehend the mechanics of operating and programming a VCR that doesn't have on-screen programming. (The uses are too numerous to mention.) 8: Practice walking barefoot on the following terrain: hot coals, crushed glass, hot springs, volcano, coral reef, bamboo spikes. 9: Always speak with an accent, no matter where you are or where you're from. 10: Never remove your ninja garb, not even to urinate or defecate. A true ninja never needs to urinate or defecate. 11: Learn lethal card tricks to impress your fellows. 12: Whenever someone visits your home, make sure they see the 'bed of nails' in your bedroom. You need not sleep on it, however. It is acceptable to have a SECRET bedroom with a waterbed or featherbed in it. 13: Practice 'blood-curdling' screams. Scream several times each day, in public and private, at appropriate times. 14: Adopt at least one nickname. Make sure at least a few people know you only by this name. When meeting new people, ALWAYS introduce yourself by saying, "I am known as..." or "They call me...". 15: Keep an odd pet, preferably something carnivorous and not native to the area. 16: Learn to be able to brush your hand once through someone else's hair and estimate how many hairs they have. A margin of error of eight is acceptable. 17: Learn to write in your sleep. Combine these writings into a book and publish it under another name. DO NOT READ THIS BOOK YOURSELF. Deny knowledge of the book, and refuse to acknowledge its existence even when confronted with it. 18: Learn to sleep with your eyes open. This way, others will think you never relax your vigilance. Or, alternately, paint fake eyeballs on your eyelids. 19: Never answer a question directly. Useful alternatives are to answer with another question, answer with a riddle, laugh maniacally, or to simply stare quietly at the person until he/she goes away. 20: Drooling IS acceptable behavior, if you are in a battle frenzy or world-dominating planning session. 21: Try to avoid showing facial expressions unless it is showing 'satisfaction' at defeating a worthy opponent. TO BE CONTINUED...! * <<>> THE YES/NO/PENIS POLL! Hello everybody! How would you like to take a poll? (Just press Ctrl-Alt-Del if you don't want to take this poll.) The purpose of this annoying little piece is to generate more poll responses than I have received from the latest issue of my modest zine, Parthenogenesis. If you DO wish to take it, please email me (RANDOM) with your responses or send them to : Parthenogenesis, 804 S.College Suite 8363, Ft.Collins,CO. 80524. For email, please use the following format: 1 - Y 2 - N 3 - P etc... Where 'Y' is for 'YES', 'N' is for 'NO', and 'P' is for 'PENIS'. (Except for question #23.) Yes, this is the eagerly awaited YES/NO/PENIS POLL. The questions follow. Remember, answer YES, NO, or PENIS! [1] Do you consider yourself "well endowed"? [2] Would you say that the movie "3 Ninjas" is PUNK? [3] Is it possible to run... AND hide? [4] Are you Dan Quayle? [5] Have you ever seen Elvis? [6] Are you DOWN with Mohammed X? [7] Do you think it's fair that Topher and Honika got fired from the Two Bits club? [8] Do you know Les Green? [9] Have you ever had sex until you passed out? [10]Do you prefer 'Kickboxer' over 'Kickboxer II'? [11]Can you read? [12]Consider this phrase: 'Mouthful of Biscuit'. Take at least 30 seconds to reflect on this. NOW, do you feel nauseous at all? [13]Are these Authentic Mexican Tacos? [14]Do you avoid Paris on the Poudre on the nights when you know they're going to have live music? [15]Spamlett...? [16]Do you ever have nightmares involving any combination of the following: TEETH, CORN, and DAVID HASSLEHOFF? [17]Is Parthenogenesis really some sort of Alien Mind Control?!?? [18]Do you firmly believe that Tactical Penile Implants are the "wave of the future"? [19]When you sharpen a pencil with a hand sharpener, does your butt wiggle in little circles? [20]Are you a regular reader of Parthenogenesis? [21]Did you answer 'yes' to the previous question? [22]Is Contradiction 23 YOUR Short Term Personal Savior? [23]Finally... What does the PENIS vote mean to you? _________________ Well, that's that. Once again, Email me (RANDOM) or write to the above address with your responses. If you want an issue of Parthenogenesis mailed to you, give me your name and address and I'll do it, unless I run out of Elvis stamps, in which case the world will end. Thank you very much for taking the time to do this! Pass this poll on to anyone you think will fill it out... and remember, the penIs, mightier than the sword! * ANOTHER DAMN POLL Yes, that's right! Tell us what you like/don't like about Parthenogenesis, simply by filling out this survey and mailing it in. For each story or feature given, please rank it on a scale of 1-10, with 1 being "It sucks! I HATE it!" and 10 being "Godlike! The basis of a new religion! More, please!". (The issue # for each is in parantheses.) "Arithmetic" (1) ___________ Rumors column (1) ___________ "Dear Mom" (1) ___________ conversation (1) ___________ Guapa (1,2) ___________ Casaguapa (2,3) ___________ "The Chronicles of Rit Som T'ng" (2,3,4)___________ "The New Story" (2) ___________ "The Book of Mohammed X" (2,3) ___________ "Aliens Visited Me..." (3) ___________ Parthenogenesis Polls (3,4) ___________ "Adventures Of Dime And Quarter"(3,4) ___________ "What You Don't Seem To Understand"(3) ___________ "Timothy Leary Interview" (4) ___________ "69 Steps to Ninja" (4) ___________ ******************************* END OF PARTHENOGENESIS ISSUE #4 *******************************