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THE FREE WORD PRESS 
Volume One - Issue One 
June 1999

fwp@cafemagnolia.com http://www.freewordpress.com
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	ELSEWHERE

	The Free Word: coaxed from fools, stolen from liars, nipped from the
lips of the wise, and yet here I am, front page.  Yet where else should
I be?  Forgive my intrusion into your indisputably pleasant lifestyle,
but, as Nietzsche proclaimed shamelessly: "To make my readers
uncomfortable: that is my goal." 
	In the spirit of such spite, then, I present to you the Free Word Press.  
Fearlessly I sally forth into the world of the digital darkness of binary bits, 
though not for the first nor last time, to be sure.  Thankfully, I have no 
anticipations or expectations festering deep within my soul save one, self 
possessing question: who will read the Press?  Will it be the people akin to 
me, who read because they delight in it, or those who secretly love the
discomfort I wish to bear?  I pray it is the latter. 
So, before you read further, I leave you with a question: has it ever struck 
you that oneıs armpits only perspire when one knows that one has forgotten 
oneıs deodorant? (or is it just me?)

	Enjoy.

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T h i s   i s s u e . . . .

	The Spiderıs Web - A new column by the award-winning writer Michael
Hugen. He has been called "infuriating, elitist, a snob" and worse for
his commentaries. Now you can read them and decide for yourself in every
issue of The Free Word Press.

	Kommunist Corner - A continuing farce by by Noame Ghregardus, head
of the Stoic League of America and highest profile Secretive Platonic
outside of LA.

	Clintonic Depression - A medical report by the foremost (and only)
specialist in the field of Politi-medicine.

	and

	The Great Ark - Put Adam, Eve, Joseph, Jesus and the rest of the
gang in a bar in Glasgow, slap them up with a round of King Solomonıs
and this is what you get.  Readeth on, sir.

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	The Spiderıs Web by Michael Hugen Copyright 1999 by Michael Hugen

	If you only use your computer and the Internet to play games, check
the stocks and weather or look at pictures of naked women, chances are
you havenıt heard about much thatıs going on the world today. Hey, if
youıre chatting with women who say theyıre naked or want to tie you up,
you might have an excuse.

	Hello. In case you hadnıt noticed, the worldıs on fire. Our
politicians lie to us, somewhere thereıs always a war going on,
teenagers are shooting up their high schools, idiot drivers are shooting
other idiot drivers for being idiots and free love cost us one whole
helluva lot.

	So here we are in 1999, with the Internet fulfilling the role we saw
for TV thirty-odd years ago. In The Glass Teat, Harlan Ellison called TV
"the most incredibly potent medium of imparting information the world
has ever known." Others thought it was a tool of Satan. Either one sound
familiar?

	They regulated TV and turned it into the mindless miasma we get to
watch today. Sure, we have Steven Bochco pushing the envelope and
showing butt shots on NYPD Blue. Who cares? We can pay our $19.95 a
month and go visit www.buttshots.something (this is not a real URL ‹ I
donıt think) and see more than our fair share of naked butts. Want the
unvarnished truth (wait, maybe that should be Truth) about anything?

	With TV, you get what the news editors can safely show without
losing ratings. With newspapers, you get it more in depth. This is the
Internet, baby, and you can get everyoneıs side of the story plus some
neat conspiracy theories thrown in for good measure. You make your own
decisions, not believe what Dan Rather, Peter Jennings and Tom Brokaw
tell you what you should believe. TV and newspapers are businesses first
and news disseminators second. Trust me, Iıve worked in both.

	Of course, the problem with this is that you have to think for
yourself. Why else do you think the Powers That Be are so scared of it?
How will they benefit by your thinking for yourself? They wonıt. You
might actually find out that the gang of thugs who lobbied most heartily
to impeach Clinton all had some skeletons in their own closets. There
was a book published about it, naming names and dates. I never saw a
book disappear off shelves so fast. No, sadly, it wasnıt because people
were buying it.

	And I am *not* a conspiracy theorist. Itıs just that anything that
approaches the Spiderıs Web gets caught, filed away for further thought
and, if Iım very lucky, I get a column, or story, or play out of it.
Where was I? Oh, yeah.

	People who use the Internet are often found to be thinking for
themselves. This is why a pre-teen can fix my computer problems faster
than I can. That kid was raised with computers. So we have some free
thinkers who arenıt satisfied with what The Big Media tells them.
Theyıll just run a search and spend a few hours on line. With little
time and no investment beyond whatever their computer (or WEB-TV) and
Internet access cost, they can have enough knowledge to hold their own
with the so-called "experts," who all have an agenda, anyway.

	Of course, this widens the ubiquitous "Generation Gap." Somewhere,
some kid is learning how to put together a bomb, while his parents are
watching "Wheel of Fortune" and screaming "Big money! Big money!"

	In 1999, parents know they have to watch TV with their children and
discuss it. That way, they might be able to avoid the poor child seeing
something that would warp his psyche. After all, a school expelled a
sixth-grade boy for sexual harassment because he "stole a kiss" from his
girlfriend on the playground. Must have been that damn "Melrose Place"
that turned him into such a predator. The girlfriend didnıt complain,
but a teacher saw it.

	Thankfully, it doesnıt require much to be a dutiful parent where TV
is involved (although there are some horrific examples of TV abuse that
Iıll probably scream about later). Push a button and itıs on. Push
another one and the channel changes. Programming VCRs is as high-tech as
many people care to go and I know plenty of caring, intelligent people
who Just Canıt Set The Time on a VCR.

	Tell a parent theyıd better get wired and find out Where They Want
To Go Today, and the look youıll get is reminiscent of a deerıs eyes
staring into headlights. For those whoıve never had the bad luck to see
that, itıs fright. Sheer terror might be a better turn of phrase.

	Learning to run a computer and navigate the Internet are investments
that parents better be willing to make. Johnny and Sally have more
access to more knowledge than might be good for them. They said that
about TV, but I never was able to tune in that show about building
bombs. Maybe it was on Public Access. Understand that I do not condone
nor support censorship, but knowledge without understanding is a truly
dangerous thing.

	Every new generation elicits moans from their elders. "Kids
nowadays! What are we going to do?" These comments are part of growing
up. Ugh the caveman probably said it when his kid decided to paint
pictures on the walls of the cave instead of just hunt, eat and sleep.

	The Internet may just be the ultimate in cave drawings. Once we
understand it, itıs a whiz bang tool. Itıs been said "a little knowledge
is a dangerous thing," but absolute ignorance is absolutely deadly. €

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	Communist Corner								by Noame Ghregardus

	Ok kids, today weıre going to talk about our biggest enemy,
Democracy, so that we may know how to defeat it when the revolution
comes.  "Democracy" is a buzzword meaning "acquiescence to the will of
the United States or the industrialized North."  We are all slaves under
this system, slaves to the liars and cheaters that exist within our
government.  90% of this planets resources are controlled by less than
1000 people.  ONE THOUSAND PEOPLE WHO DO NOT WORK!  The WORKERS are
those upon whom the "nation" rests.  Under the "Democracy" in which we
live the government tells us that we can change things when we are
miserable, but that is just another capitalist LIE!  The masses are
swayed by the campaigns of the politicians, and the campaigns of the
politicians are funded by THOSE 1000 PEOPLE.  Who actually decides who
wins elections?  THOSE 1000 PEOPLE!  In whose favor will those
politicians act?  NOT YOURS! REVOLT!!  -----------      Next issue:  Are
you free?

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	Clintonic Depression by Entropy Squared

	The roots of this mental disorder can be traced back to the early
1980ıs, but it is growing in frequency as the millenium approaches.

	Early Warning Indicators: In general, the group most susceptible to
Clintonic Depression includes those previously displaying symptoms of a
brain disorder easily recognized by the suffererıs illogical tendency to
accept liberalism as a world view.  There is irrefutable evidence that
those who are predisposed to this illness can suffer an acceleration of
symptoms if they experience prolonged exposure to William Jefferson
Clinton or to information concerning Clintonıs activities. An
overexposure of information pertinent to Clinton can sometimes cause a
rapid onset of the disorder in individuals one would normally expect to
have immunity. As an interesting quirk, predisposed sufferers who are
offered Œimmunityı often experience a rapid progression through the
disease and quickly succumb to its final stages.

	Symptoms: One of the most difficult problems in accurately
diagnosing Clintonic Depression is the lack of outward symptoms of those
who are afflicted. While sufferers of this illness must be undergoing
severe inner turmoil, they invariably display sheer genius in their
ability to conceal their illness from family, friends and co-workers.
Oddly, many of the afflicted, themselves, will come forward with claims
of being previously aware of symptoms exhibited by another sufferer,
after that otherıs illness has passed the terminal stage.

	Terminal Stages: The sad and inevitable final stage of Clintonic
Depression is a novel form of suicide. In the terminal stage the
afflicted once again exhibit genius in their choices of suicide method.
It is not clear at this time why sufferers go to great lengths to make
their suicides appear impossible. They will shoot themselves several
times from impossible angles or shoot themselves and drive to a park and
lie down or pair up with a friend and lie on a railroad track and wait
for a train. They have even gone so far as to get others to write their
suicide notes, obviously with the intention of creating greater
confusion.

	Conclusions: Much more research is needed in the study of this
disease. Known cases are difficult to verify and many cases have likely
been misdiagnosed. There exists a school of thought which postulates the
answer to this malady lies outside the realm of medical science and,
indeed, lies in the political sphere. Many proponents of this viewpoint
can be found at freerepublic.com

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	ŒThe Great Arkı by Jason Andreas


	Before our story begins, it may be helpful if I explain a few
things. You see, this tale is set in a parallel dimension, a universe
like ours, but different at the same time. The technology in this
universe is at the same level as ours - for example, they have
television and aeroplanes and pay-per-view. However, the world itself is
different. I suppose that you could say that itıs still Biblical Times.
The setting for our story, a small public house in the Partick area of
Glasgow called The Great Ark, is, for some unknown reason, a centre
point for every biblical Œbig nameı around. This means that Joey, the
barman, can count amongst his regulars the likes of Jesus, Moses, Noah
and the like. What you are about to encounter could confuse, terrify and
horrify you in equal measure. Donıt take it too seriously though, it is
only a story. - The Narrator

	The Saturday sun rose lazily over the Glasgow rooftops. It was 7:59,
almost opening time at The Great Ark and there was already a small
huddle of dawn-to-dusk regulars gathered outside the double doors. There
was the sound of a key in the lock and the little crowd began to press
forward. The Great Ark was open for another day of business.

	Adam and Eve, who were always the first patrons inside, stood
impatiently at the bar. Joey spotted them and sighed. It was going to be
one of those days. ŒAıright you two, what have I telt yese baith a
thousand bloody times?ı ŒIt mattereth not, Joey,ı replied Adam, ŒTwo
King Solomons please.ı ŒNo.ı ŒPardon me? I thinketh that you
misunderstoodeth me, barman.ı The last word had poison in it. ŒNo. I
told you both yesterday, and the day before,ı answered Joey calmly, ŒAnd
the day before that, and so on. Iım noı takinı your cheek anymore.
Indecent exposureıs still a crime in this city, Iım noı getting intae
trouble Œcause you two canny obey the dress code.ı ŒDamnation and
sufferation, we haveth our fig leaves. Is that not goodeth enough for
you designer label types?ı ŒRighteth, damn! Why do I always start
"ething" whenever I talk to any of you chancers? Thatıs it. You two are
barred until you get some decent claes.ı He pointed at the door. ŒOut!ı
ŒCometh on honey,ı Adam said to his unusually quiet wife, ŒWe shall
purchase our forbidden beverage someth other placeth.ı They scowled at
Joey as they left. [At this point, I feel that I should explain
something. Being Bible legends, as they are, most of the patrons firmly
believe that Œethı must end as many words as is possible; after all,
they have reputations to live up to. Itıs not big. Itıs not clever. (It
usually goes out of the window after a few drinks.) For your - the
readerıs - sake, I have decided to censor out the remaining Œethsı as it
can get slightly annoying. Thank you.     - The Narrator]

	Noah came in a little later on. He had a huge amount of paper under
one arm which he threw down upon his table as he sat down. He ordered a
double brandy, downed it in one gulp and began to rage at length to the
rest of the patrons. ŒBloody Glasgow Council have declared that my Ark
is an eyesore. It also,ı Noah went into his government official voice -
squeaky and annoying - ŒContravenes section two, paragraph four point
six of the Equal Opportunities Commissionıs Guidelines, because I didnıt
use any Irish workers. I also have used wood which was below required
safety standards. Then, then those bastards hit me with a fine for not
having any fire extinguishers on board. Gaaahhhh! And then they told
me...ı This drunken tirade against Glasgow City Council went on for
ages, so weıll just skip the rest. I think youıve probably got the
picture by now.

	It was now early afternoon, and the bar was getting busier. Anyone
stupid enough to sit near Noah was given a lecture on the uselessness of
the Council. Joey had gone out for his break, leaving his brother Austin
in charge. At this point, there began a strange commotion near the
doors. The gathered patrons began to slowly move, as if dragged apart by
an invisible hand. Moses stood at the doors, his arms outstretched,
hands moving slowly apart. In other words: Moses parted the crowd. He
strode confidently through the gap, a faint grin on his face. Al Kahim,
the local Egyptian man walked in behind him and barely had time to
scream as the crowd rolled back over him like a wall of water. Moses
nodded with satisfaction and stepped up to order his drink.

	Jesus entered next, with some of his Apostles [in this universe,
they are now college students, meaning that they are untidy, rude and
have the ability to drink twice their own body weight in alcohol] in
tow. Only Peter, who had dropped out, and Thomas, were missing. They sat
around a table as Judas was sent to get the drinks. Jesus began to teach
his students.

	ŒBlessed are those who wish for peace, their reward will be in
Heaven,ı he began. Then, the questions started. ŒShould we right this
down?ı ŒWill it be in the test?ı ŒI donıt get it.ı At which point Thomas
came up to the table. ŒSorry Iım late, sir. I doubt youıd believe my
excuse. Did I miss anything important?ı Jesus began to cry slowly into
his drink as the Apostles filed out for their lunch break, passing Peter
on their way out. He nodded a greeting to Jesus and approached the bar.
Joey was back in his usual place now.

	ŒHey, Pete. Whatıll it be?ı ŒI think ahıll have a cocktail today,
Joey.ı ŒFancy. So whatıre ye wantinı?ı ŒHmm. How about a Bible today,
Joe.ı ŒA Bible? Whitıs that then, ahıve never heard oı it afore?ı ŒOh,
you take a pint glass. Pour in a wee drap of relevance and top it up
with meaningless rubbish.ı Peter winked. ŒHo. Ho. Ho.ı Joey answered,
sarcastically, ŒFunny. Laugh? Ah nearly started. Whit de ye really
want?ı ŒJist gimmie some water,ı said Peter, a smug grin sitting upon
his lips. ŒNo, I donıt think so, pal.ı ŒHow no?ı Peter gasped. ŒWell,ı
Joey began, ŒAhım fed up oı youse lot gettinı the boss over there,ı he
nodded towards Jesus, who gave him a little wave, ŒTae turn it intae
wine. Ahıve lost big bucks out oı that scam. If yeıre wantinı wine, buy
it like anybody else.ı Now it was Joeyıs turn to grin smugly. Peter
scowled at him and slammed a note onto the bar. ŒAı right, Iıll have a
wine. Pal.ı Peter took his wine with bad grace and went to sit beside
Jesus.

	It had now just hit three in the afternoon. The television was
brought to life by Joey and the customers gathered round, clutching
their betting slips like vices. It seemed like easy money, the reigning
champion - Goliath - was fighting some unknown farm boy called David
somewhere in the Middle East. As the two combatants stepped onto the
playing field, the crowd began to cheer and chant. Peter, ever the
joker, began to chant ŒYahweh, Yahweh, Yahweh, Yahweh, Yah-weh,
Yah-weh,ı until Jesus kicked him under the table and gave him one of his
Œlooks.ı Joey turned up the volume and the commentator droned over the
bar;

	Œ ...And it seems, folks, that Goliath has the upper hand here. Heıs
over twice Davidıs weight and just look at those pectoral muscles. Heıs
going to be hard to beat. And thereıs the bell. Round one. Goliathıs
made the first move. Heıs got David in a powerful-looking sleeper hold
and he ainıt gonna let go. No, wait, the refereeıs telling him to break
it. Poor David looks out of it already. Heıs staggering back to his
corner to talk with Don King, his manager. Hey! Whatıs going on? Don
King has just gotten into an argument with the referee! Ladies and
gentlemen! This is astonishing! My word! Davidıs just hit Goliath with a
slingshot! The Giant man just fell like a ton of bricks! Davidıs pinning
him now as Don King goes back to the corner! The referee counts, one,
two, three! Itıs over! David has won here today! I canıt believe what I
just saw! Ladies and gentlemen, that was the....ı Joey switched off the
television, accompanied by a chorus of boos and jeers. Torn up betting
slips began to cascade to the ground as the crowd moved away from the
TV. Thomas came rushing through the doors, betting slip in hand.

	ŒWhat was the result? Have I missed it?ı Joey told him. Thomas
punched the air in delight. ŒI doubted that Goliath would win! Woo-hoo!
Iıve cleaned up! See you all later, suckers!ı With that, he sprinted
back out of the door, nearly knocking down Jonah, who looked bewildered
by all the commotion. He seemed unhappy.

	ŒWhatıs the matter, Jonah?ı asked Peter, ŒYou usually look like
youıre having a whale of a time.ı The bar erupted into laughter. ŒWhatıs
a guy like you doing in a plaice like this?ı More laughter. Even Jesus
began to snigger. ŒIs it true what Iıve been herring about you?ı Joey
began to snort with the effort of keeping the laughter in. ŒIıd better
stop harpooning on, eh? Else I might get a wha...ı His joke was cut
short by an object - Jonahıs fist - striking his mouth. He reeled
backwards and fell over a bar stool, lying unconscious where he landed.
No-one bothered to pick him up. Moses began to howl with laughter.

	ŒWell done, Jonah! Ho! Ho! I was wondering when someone would shut
that little idiot up. Let me get you a drink.ı Jonah joined his friend
and a semblance of calm returned to the bar.

	A copy of the Evening Times had now begun to circulate around the
bar. Most of the regulars were laughing at it. On the front page was a
picture of Adam, sans fig leaf, being pushed into a police van. The
headline said ŒAdam Shamed!ı The main story was about Adam (obviously),
who had gone to visit Cain in the Young Offendersı Wing in Barlinnie
Prison. He had been drunk and had tried to smuggle in a file underneath
his fig leaf. Observant prison officers (remember things are different
in this universe) had spotted the object and arrested Adam. His case
would be brought before the High Court in a couple of weeksı time. There
was no sign of Eve, but she was reported to be visiting the Snake House
at Glasgow Zoo.

	The next couple of hours passed pretty quietly. Peter picked himself
up, dusted himself down, and left as quietly as possible. Jonah and
Moses had started to argue about whose round it was.

	ŒAhım tellinı ye, itıs your round!ı Shouted Moses. ŒLiar,ı retorted
Jonah, ŒIım just after buyinı you a tequila slammer, it wis bloody dear,
too!ı ŒWho are you callinı a liar? Ya fishy-smellinı wee bum!ı
ŒFishy-smellinı? Thatıs rich, cominı frae a wummin like you!ı ŒIıll show
ye a wummin! Huv a faceful oı heid!ı With that, Moses cleanly broke
Jonahıs nose with his forehead. Jonah collapsed, groaning. Moses took
the opportunity to launch an almighty kick between Jonahıs legs. Jonah
screamed like a choirboy and passed out. Moses spat on him and turned
back to the bar. Joey stood with his arms folded, his face grim. ŒIım
fed up of this. Youıre nothinı but a troublemaker, Moses.ı Joey pointed
towards the door. ŒGet out. Youıre barred until ye learn to control
yerselı! Move it!ı Moses, grumbling under his breath, turned and marched
out of the door. Jonah was carted off in an ambulance about five minutes
later, but was later released after a quick check-up. (He is currently
suing Moses for all he owns. The lawsuit is expected to cost the
taxpayer thousands.)

	Joseph came into the bar and headed for his usual solitary corner.
He ordered a bottle of vodka, drank it in one gulp and staggered out of
the door, pausing only to smash the bottle at Jesusı feet.

	ŒWhatıs the matter with that guy?ı Asked one of the newer patrons.
Joey shook his head sadly. ŒHis wife had an affair. It destroyed him.ı
ŒOh. I see. Is that the guy she did it with?ı He pointed at Jesus. ŒNaw,
thatıs the wean she had. Heıs the son of god. But thatıs not what hurt
Joseph the most...ı ŒOh? Then what did?ı Asked the man, interested
despite himself. ŒShe went about tellinı everyone that sheıs a virgin.
That her and Joe have never done it. He got the piss ripped out oı him
somethinı awful.ı ŒSo then whit happened?ı ŒOh, he dumped her, moved
back wiı his mother. Mary was crushed, for about five minutes. Last I
heard, she was a hooker, hanginı around Queen Street.ı ŒI see. Nae
wonder the guy drinks.ı ŒAye,ı Joey agreed, shaking his head, ŒItıs a
pity, right enough.ı

	It was almost closing time by now. The bar had begun to empty. Jesus
had ascended to his room for a sleep. Tomorrow was Sunday, his busy day,
and he needed his rest. Moses was discovered later on. He was naked,
tied to a lamppost, and had a pig tattooed on his chest. His hangover
lasted for three months. The apostles took an all-nighter, desperately
trying to finish their dissertations - which were due in the next day.
Noah, later that night, chained himself outside the council offices and
claimed that he would remain there until his problems were sorted. Heıs
still there now, three million choruses of ŒWe Shall Not Be Movedı
later. David went on to win the World Belt after a few bouts. He then
fired Don King as his promoter, claiming that he was bad for his image.
King swore revenge and hasnıt been seen since. Goliath, on the other
hand, retired from the arena. He was invited onto a Jerry Springer
special entitled; ŒSize Does Matter When Your Father Is An Alcoholic
Cross-Dressing Trailer Park Attendant Who Strips For A Living While Your
Sister Wants Her Head Frozen And Your Mother Ran Off With The Marriage
Counsellorıs Dog Walker.ı It smashed all ratings records ever recorded.
God sat on his throne watching the world below. He created a giant
aspirin and went to bed with a huge ice pack. He seemed to be getting a
lot of headaches these days...

	So there you have it. So ends our tale of another day of Drunk and
Disorderly in The Great Ark. Makes you think, doesnıt it? Is it really
worth drinking? After all, you might end up like these clowns. OW! Those
thunderbolts donıt scare me! Iıve told you before, God, Iıll write
whatever I wa... - The Narrator

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	EDITORIAL SERVICES FOR WRITERS

	30 + years experience in fiction and non-fiction.  Award-winning
writer/editor can fine-tune YOUR manuscript for less than most reading
fees.

	michaelhugen@worldnet.att.net for quotes.*

	*This is a business e-mail address; please address all mail
referencing my column to The Free Word Press.

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	The Free Word Press would like to thank: Michael Hugen + Noame
Ghregardus + Entropy Squared + Jason Andreas + Everyone who flamed me on
alt.zines + Huey P. Long


	This publication is Copyright 1999 by Free Word Publications.
Submissions are copyrighted by the author.