SPECIAL TENTH ANNIVERSARY ISSUE - ALL THE BEST SHIT WE'VE BEEN SAVING IS HERE ģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģ ŪŪŪ Ū ŪŪŪ ŪŪŪ ŪŪŪ ÕĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶø Ū Ū Ū Ū Ū ³A 'zine that explores everything that's wrong. ³ ŪŪ Ū Ū Ū ³This includes: Earth, America, labels, stupid ³ Ū Ū Ū Ū Ū ³people, illiteracy, incompitance, mainstream, ³ Ū Ū Ū ŪŪŪŪŪ ŪŪŪŪ ³ignorance, religion, annoying people, education³ Y O U R S E L F ³and whatever else we can think of that's wrong.³ #10 ŌĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶ; ģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģģ ÖÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ· ŗ"There are only so many people who are willing to take a fall for what they ŗ ŗ believe in, yet those who do still experience regret." ŗ ĒÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĶ ŗÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ -A D.I.Y. PROJECT. THE ONLY WAY TO DO STUFF.- ŗ ŗŻIn this issue we exploreŽ ŗ ŗŻA CALL TO ATTENTION, RE:Ž -KILL YOURSELF IS ABSOLUTELY, DOUBTLESSLY FREE- ŗ ,Ż Ż ŗŻAffirmative Action and Ž ŗ ŗŻ Mourning. Ž -FUCK (C) AND ANY OTHER FORM OF TRADEMARKING- ŗ ŗßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßß ŗ ŗÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÕĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶøŗ ŗŻ "Testicular Trauma: Ž ³We now have a section for Poetry/Short Stories.³ŗ ŗŻ Thoughts of Designer Ž ³Please respond to these whether you want to ³ŗ ŗŻImposter Body Spray" andŽ ³criticize, compliment, or just tear the shit ³ŗ ŗŻ"Translucency:Inference"Ž ³out of them. You are also free to submit yours.³ŗ ŗßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßß ŌĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶĶ;ŗ ÓÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĽ "ZIPPY THE PINHEAD OKAYS WHEATIES AS THE OFFICIAL DRUG OF ATHLETES" ÖÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ· ŗ NOTE: This issue is also available in HTML format as are all of the ŗ ŗ other issues of Kill Yourself. See the bottom of this issue ŗ ŗ for all sites where Kill Yourself can be found. ŗ ŗÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ ŗ ŗ We are always accepting all forms of reply to this zine. We always ŗ ŗ want your input. SOLUTIONS, PROBLEMS, COMPLAINTS, COMPLIMENTS, ŗ ŗ POETRY and SHORT STORIES. E-MAIL: IAMHOLTZ@oak.grove.iup.edu ŗ ŗ Or go through the Postal Service: 148 Jackson St, Indiana,PA 15701 ŗ ÓÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĽ SUBSCRIBERS: ²±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±± .01% 50% THE WORLD CONTRIBUTERS: ²±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±± .01% 50% THE WORLD šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš ISSUES/PROBLEMS... šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³The following entry brought to you by Mike (bongo@cpcn.com) ³ ĆÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³PROBLEM 0000000002 of 2222222220 ³ A CALL TO ATTENTION... ³ Ż ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĮÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ A Call to Attention : a new(t) years resolution for all you gen-xin', net surfin, cyberpunkin, slackin, grunge wearin, ritalin takin, beeper carryin', gun totin', drug takin' american youths - and that means YOU! We are on the verge of entering a realm of which there is no return. This is a realm which is being created by our elders, publicized by our stars, and followed by our peers. Giving up, not following through, not having the balls to hang in there. A man single handedly began a revolution. A revolution in music. He and his mates brought upon this earth a new sound and feel to music like no other has. He moved millions and sold millions. He fought to make a change in the status quo. And then he gave up. He gave in to his self created hate and destruction, his addictions. He was so selfish as to let his needle run his life rather than his mind. When the going got tough, the tough put a shotgun in his face and removed most of the contents of his head. Yes Kurt Cobain, you pathetic ass hole, I mean you. Millions looked up the the dead one as a hero, a guiding light, a god. He robbed them blind with his own self pitty and hate. No,money cant buy happiness.But it sure can get you the best drug and psycho therepy around. Next up we have a few guys from the same town. They took Nirvana's place rather neatly as the new idols. They filled the gaps with new and even more ideas and ideals. When they felt that they werent accessable enough to their fans and were ripping them off, they filed a law suit and took it to the highest courts. Yes, these fine men of strong conviction stood before the United States Congress and fought to take down the single most powerful monopoly in the music industry. They showed that the good guy can win some times. They found and injustice in the status quo and decided to take up arms and make a change. Then they gave up because their tour profits were diminishing and dont we all know that money is more important than fighting for what you believe in? A thumbs down and around and up their collective greedy ass to Pearl Jam. They bravely fought the system and gave up. If you want to catch Pork Jiz on their next tour, make your way to the local Ticket Master and bring your American Express, because a Visa doesnt have a high enough spending limit. Last, we have a commoner. No one more than another faceless late teen fresh out of high school and ready for college. Only problem is, the college wont admit her because she got a pussy instead of a dick. This would naturally infuriate anyone and cause any person with any kind of a sense of what is right to fight for change. And she did. She fought all the way to the Supreme Court. She was on the cover of every paper in the country. She fought for what she believed to be her right to fair and equil treatment. She fought. And won. And gave up. After winning her court battle against the Citadel and being admitted, Shannon Faulkner decided that this whole changing the status quo and leading others thing wasnt for her. Shannon Falkner, you listened to too much pearl jam and nirvana, didnt you? ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³SOLUTION 0000000002 of 2222222220 ³ A CALL TO ATTENTION... ³ ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĮÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ What we have here is a beginnning of a trend. It started at the top with the innovators and status quo change. It spread to others in the influential main stream. And finally it trickled down to the common folk. What we need to do is stop this senseless path of apathy. If you believe in something, fight for it. If it is right, you will win. But never give up. If there is a problem in your status quo which you feel is in need of change, fight to change it and make it a new status quo. Right now the status quo is to fight for what you believe in and then give up, even if you win, and slam the door in the face of anyone else who looked up to you or wished to follow. Set an example DO SOMETHING! šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³The following entry brought to you by Matt (resist@jhu.edu) ³ ĆÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³PROBLEM 5198 of 8933 ³ RE: Affirmative Action (See Issue #7) ³ ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĮÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ "WITH ATTACKS ON AFFIRMATIVE ACTION MOUNTING ACROSS THE COUNTRY, THE PRIMARY VEHICLE BEING THE ORWELLIAN-NAMED "CIVIL RIGHTS" INITIATIVE IN CALIFORNIA, ORGANIZING HAS BEGUN EARLY TO CHALLENGE THE RACISM OF THIS NEW ATTACK." all told, affirmative action is not mana from the gods and has many very real negative consequences, such as actually increasing racism. the thing is, racism isn't about jobs, or anything else, it's about how people feel. in many ways, giving preferential treatment in education/hiring/etc. to minorities fuels racism because the underlying assumption is that they can't compete without them. i disagree with that assumption, and i'll assume that it is usually not the case. using the UC example, a minority graduates from that college and enters the "real" world and looks for a job. now, the potential employer will be aware that the student is a minority, and that his/her school has looser standards for some minorities. even if the graduate DIDN'T get better treatment, the possibility exists, and they won't be considered as fairly as other candidates. as far as the UC situation goes, does it really make sense for an institution involved in furthering "education" to deny students admission, even though they may be more qualified than someone else who is admitted because of their skin color? this also fuels the problem. resentment. in many cases, it is imagined, but every student who is admitted who otherwise wouldn't be is displacing someone else, creating another victim of race-based discrimination. i don't think two wrongs add up to a solution. "IN ADDITION, THE REMOVAL OF AFFIRMATIVE ACTION IN CALIFORNIA HAS ALREADY BACKFIRED. BACCHI, A WHITE MAN WHO COMPLAINED ABOUT NOT GETTING A JOB IN EDUCATION BECAUSE A LESSER QUALIFIED BLACK MAN WAS ASKED OF HIS OPINION ABOUT THE COLLEGE HAVING AN ALL WHITE STAFF. THE THING IS, THE MOST QUALIFIED PEOPLE FOR THESE POSITIONS ARE ASIAN AMERICANS, WHO WILL, IN TURN, GET THE JOBS. HEH." i think this is great because they chose the most qualified person, without regard to race. how can this be backfiring, when that exact scenerio is what would transpire in a world free of racism? >Matte... I think this is backfiring because those who have attempted and < >succeeded in removing Affirmative Action hoped to have a white majority in < >the school. I also feel that they would prefer a white staff rather than < >the most qualified staff. But the school thinks otherwise and did indeed < >pick the most qualified applicants. This was backfiring to those < >individuals who had the power to remove Affirmative Action. ...Dave < ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³SOLUTION 5198 of 8933 ³ RE: Affirmative Action (See Issue #7) ³ ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĮÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ just a little blabber about aa from a licensed non-racist person. i just think that we will never be free of racism until race is removed as a part of your qualifications, whether you are a minority or not. >Matte... this is a very good point but until that happens, this seems to be< >the only way to insure that minorities are getting an equal opportunity in < >this overwhelmingly racist country. ...Dave < šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³The following entry brought to you by Dave (IAMHOLTZ@oak.grove.iup.edu) ³ ĆÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³PROBLEM 1.1 of 3 ³ Mourning ³ Ż ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĮÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ Your favorite rock star is dead. He shot himself in the head, he had a helicopter accident, he went comatose, he was OD. You worshipped him, you loved him, you would have had his children, you would have let him take care of your children. His existence made up most of your world. Without him, there was no reason for existence. Now that he's dead, you miss him more than you love your mother and you didn't even know him. ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³SOLUTION 1.1 of 3 ³ Mourning ³ ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĮÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ Don't be fooled. The only thing your hero, your idol, your god loved was the money you stole out of mom's purse to buy his record album. he just wanted to go platinum and when he said "I love my fans" he meant "I love your money" Don't waste your time. Rock stars are freeloaders, money-hungry corporate assholes. Por ejemplo, if Kurt Kobain didn't want to become popular why did he bother making any videos? Why did he bother changing labels? Consider Jerry Garcia. Look what he did. If he loved you so much why did he charge $20 per show? Not only that, but he has caused millions of teens and adults alike to burn themselves out beyond all recognition. All these unproductive and now unable people have nothing to live for. Jerry did this. Jerry brainwashed all of these people and now they are hopeless. Thanks alot. I'm grateful that you're dead, but what about all the dead heads? They are your pitiful creation. Congratulations. šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš SHORT STORIES/POETRY... šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³The following entry brought to you by Andrew Feinberg (afeinber@panix.com) ³ ĆÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³ "Testicular Trauma: Thoughts of Designer Imposter Body Spray" ³ Ż ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ I can remember the first time I saw the commercial vividly, for I was scarred eternally, not unlike the first time I had a woman look me square in the eye, force a smile, and mumble "Don't worry, I heard it happens to a LOT of guys." While channel surfing a few months ago, found myself landing on MTV.It was The Real World Two that was on, and I couldn't change the channel because it was my favorite one, where Tammi purposely wired her mouth shut to lose weight. I was thinking about taking up a collection to keep it wired shut forever, but alas, I digress. A commercial interlude began with a Mentos commercial, and I was appalled to find myself mouthing along "Mentos, the freshmaker!" with my television. That was bad enough, but when I realized I was actually holding my remote triumphantly, not unlike the girl holding up her mighty Mentos, I knew I must turn off the television and get some fresh air.I reached for the "off" button on the remote, but found myself unable to hit it. Instead, I my eyes were glazed as I heard my RCA beckon: "The following demonstration has been made suitable for television." It piqued my interest, I figured I'd watch the commercial. Big mistake. It was a naked woman prancing around the screen with a spray can, covered only by two blue bars that followed her around covering her breasts, and her holiest of holies. Now, seeing an attractive naked woman bopping around on a television screen, this is not what scarred me. Don't you worry. In fact, it made me laugh hysterically. A voice-over wasexplaining "First, spray Designer Imposter Spray on your arms, and then spray some on your (beeped out the breasts),and the same time the woman was spraying it on the described areas. It went on to describe all the different places one could spray it, while the woman, seemingly in ecstasy, followed suit. It was truly a ridiculous image, the quasi-orgasmic quality of spraying some cheap-assed imitation perfume all over herself. She wound up spraying every part of her body really, as the voice-over told me that spraying this poisonous smelling fluid all over feels so good "you could spray them everywhere". But this of course, is not true. She missed a spot. If she was to spray the faux- spray in one particular place, shall we say, below the equator, this would not produce the ecstatic result as it provided elsewhere. I believe the correct word to describe the result would be "agony". But, thankfully, she missed that spot, so the commercial, which I thought was over wound up being just silly, not traumatic. Little did I know that in just ten seconds, I would be huddled in the corner of the room, rocking in the fetal position, hand immersed in my pants, a la Al Bundy. It seemed as though the commercial was over, as they showed a bottle of the stuff on the screen. But then it happened. Like all horrible things in my life, I saw it in slow motion, like when Marsellus Wallace in Pulp Fiction had Zed give him a proctologic exam without the courtesy of a sigmoidoscope. A nude man appeared on the screen, bottle in hand, blue bar on crotch. The voice-over triumphantly announced, "Available for men too!" The man, with a smug as hell grin, SPRAYS HIS CROTCH AND CHUCKLES! He laughs with this smirk on his face, as if it were the most euphoric and wonderful experience he had ever experienced. .And the commercial was over. It was an overload for my brain, I believe that was when I went into shock. In my trauma induced state, my entire life passed before my eyes. Well, okay, not my WHOLE life, but an incident in particular that involved myself, and my cajones. I flashed back to seventh grade, I must have been around twelve or thirteen years old. I remember being twelve quite well, it was when I was a tiny 5'4 boy, and knew that someday I would grow and grow and finally be able to conquer that freaking sign that said "YOU MUST BE THIS TALL TO GO ON THIS RIDE". Now I'm twenty-five. Hey, it's not that I'm still not allowed to go on certain rides, I just CHOOSE not to okay?? I could go on any ride I want, I just don't like waiting in line! Wait, I'm mixing up my traumas. Let's go back to my being twelvish. My dream girl, Penelope Horowitz, had asked me whether I wanted to go over her house on Sunday and study with her for an algebra exam. I could hardly sleep that night, knowing what would happen when I was alone with her, perusing the subtle nuances of algebra. I knew in my heart of hearts, that in the midst of studying, we would look up from the book, stare into each others eyes, admit our undying love, have a torrid affair, get married, have children, and happily grow old together. I just had to make sure everything was right. Sunday morning, I spent two hours getting myself absolutely perfect for the big study date. When I felt I was ready, I started to leave the house, but ran back into the bathroom. As I was singing along to "Islands in the Stream" on my radio, I realized. I had forgotten the key to getting a woman to think of me as real man. Cologne. So I covered myself with my dad's English Leather, not thoroughly unlike the naked woman in the Designer Imposter commercial. But what if Penelope begged me to have sex with her? This was a real possibility. The prospect of her finding me "not so fresh" was strictly unacceptable. So in the middle of singing the Dolly Parton part of the chorus, I pulled out the waistband of my underwear, and did my final spray. "Islands in the stream...that is what we AREEEEEEEEEEEEGHHHHHHH!" I had never experienced such excruciating pain in my entire life. I had to cancel the date. I spent the remainder of the day holding my wounded huevos and cursing the day I had tried to spray myself "there". Penelope went on to date and marry my best friend. Oh Penelope, I miss you so...if you're reading this give me a call, I know I can make you so happy... Back to the story at hand. the man in the commercial had made the same mistake I had made, yet suffered no ill consequences. It was the most unreal and unjust act I had seen since Marisa Tomei had won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. But like the Tomei tragedy, this wrong could be righted, I knew it. I knew then why I had been put on this earth. It was to get that commercial modified. I wrote letters. I made urgent phone calls. I boycotted using the product. Okay, I hadn't really used it in the first place, but hey, manufacturers didn't know that. Yet every day that blasted commercial would come on time and time again. Hundreds of times, I saw that smug bastard spray his crotch. Was there no justice in the world? The horror, the horror. But just as I began to give up hope, it happened. The commercial began the same, bimbo dancing around in her Imposter glory. Same guy, blue bar on privates. But this time, he sprayed his CHEST, smirking and chuckling. Glory, hallelujah! Can I get an amen? There's no need to thank me. Just knowing that I might have saved one pubescent boy from making the same mistakes I made is enough. All I ask for is a page in the history books documenting my selfless effort to make the world a better place to live. Or maybe a statue. šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³The following entry brought to you by Dave (IAMHOLTZ@oak.grove.iup.edu) ³ ĆÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³ "Translucency: An Inference" ³ ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ Polyurethane cocktail waitress takes my order. Down the block the meatmen are scouring, relentless. Trash can blues and a side of fish carcass for dessert. Unwitting of the immobile state of my well being I made one last attempt, for the first time, at being all I can be. Elderly execution evaded; Won't be pulling the plug on Grandpa Kaligula just yet. He's got a few more souls to swallow. Just the other day at dawn dashing, limping super hero takes his last fall. Couldn't beat the competitive business battalions beating his brains in with infectious lies without the slightest bit remorse. Regret deleted from the vocabulary of the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Unsettled, the war drags on. Who should we offer the chance of a death time to this year? Less fortunate tax payers tattered. OD on welfare. Lose all contact with their nearest neighbor gnawing on their own nevus looking for the source of discomfort finding nothing but loose ends and lower living standards abroad. Reach for nothing, lose at everything. Sweat glands pouring, plugging up every orifice, ceasing movement, maintaining silence. Cry and cry and cry and cry and tears turn into raindrops as spring evolves into summer sunshine sanctions--graveyards--peaceful--lethal. Shoot up with your closest enemy. Don't be selfish without consent of your worst friend. Go on vacation, relaxation to the closest third world nation. Fishbowls staring, mirrors glaring, window frames caring, contentious flames. Could care less, confess you made it all better without pride-- Pride. Have pride in your country no matter how xenophobic your foreign exchange student acquaintances tend to be. Family values, Valium, talcum powder, ornaments with crucifix follies and wreath-like wrapping paper stapled to the forehead of the last American Gladiator. Be the leading member--the sole survivor of your very own fan club. Be the first on your block to drown yourself in... Yugoslavian-bathtub! Shut their mouths, authorize their questions, question their authority. Outlet, teacher's pet, fun time, gum line, Blacktop, asphalt, concrete, doormat, Bow legged Catastrophic Alien Syringe Exoskelatonic Annihilation Of nothing but that blade of grass you've been staring at for countless hours. šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ The decline of not just the Western civilization but all of our ³IN CLOSING:³ civilization is so rapid that we, more often than not, miss out ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ on making any effort to slow this process down. We are bogged down by the unlimited human needs and wants. Materialism is a hard habit to break. But we can limit ourselves. For example, boycotting beauty products that are tested on animals before put on our shelves. Don't be so concerned with your external appearance, especially with makeup. If you're worried about looking fat, lose weight. Want is a strong feeling, but so is seeing 5 billion braindead people roaming the earth. Don't lose your head. If you say there is no hope, Kill Yourself! šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš ŚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³DISTRIBUTION IS AS FOLLOWS:³ ĄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ FTP: * ftp.eng.ufl.edu/incoming * etext.archive.umich.edu/pub/Zines/KillYourself * ftp.etext.org/pub/Zines/KillYourself * locust.cic.net/pub/Zines/KillYourself GOPHER: * gopher://gopher.etext.org/11/Zines HTML: * http://hops.cs.jhu.edu/~mbk/killyourself.html * http://www.etext.org/Zines/KillYourself šššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššššš September 1995