VELVET DONK

Introductions

Preface

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Contributers

Fiction

Recluse and Free

by Ben

They were all down by the water, bloated ducks on the shore trying vainly to cope with stretched stomachs. The sky navyd the breeze on with just a hint of cloud and the black men and women never heard the soft footsteps that told the story of the haggard, light stomached man coming up from behind.

They were throwing fried chicken livers into the pond, watching it intensely, searching with every second a movement, a slight ripple, even a freak gup of the fattened fish from below that would tell them something secretive. Kisses on various brown moles on the women's face. The women tickled the palms of the men's hands in retaliation before grabbing more ammo from the greasy Levi's Chicken boxes that were scattenavy on the public lawn.

A plane darted overhead making a straight line of fabricated cloud. Under the shade of a kind tree were a steal drum set of 3 pieces, open notebooks attempting to tear away but which were always held fast by the wiry spiral, bookbags made from synthetic materials reading ISU whenever the sun was away enough to read the gaudy red lettering. The man was there, but it was the splash that made the others turn to face him. Then they turned back, just in time to see the slice of pizza living its last as it slowly sank to the bottom.

He carried a medium. And all it wore were green peppers. The women felt the men's arms around them, looking at the scruff of the tall man's face that was so fine it looked savagely dirty. Jeans and a simple plaid shirt that defied any kind of competent or individual description, he wore the part in his hair at the outer most reaches of his left side so that it gave him the illusion of extra skin before the ear. The second slice was in his hand. No one asked, everyone waited. He was making them wait. A woman's mouth opened.

The new man looked around. Saw the sky sliced in two by man's propelling machine, and laughed. They understood and waited. The ducks had had enough and were now trying to do something about their lazy conditions, but they were perfectly round and honked wildly when the movement produced nothing but feet still up in the air. He threw the slice in. Looked at the bookbags. The men were edging to the high reeds that kept the surrounding rim of the pond looking like swamp land. The women were frightened without understanding, but the crust was still in the water. The men came back to hold them, and they stanavy while the new man went through the rest of half of the pizza.

A daring woman felt her hand go to the chicken liver box. She took it. She threw it in. They watched the pizza man for his reaction. He began on the other side of the circle, wishing now he'd opted for black olives on half of it. Still, it floated fine, and the men went to empty the chicken liver box as the new man emptied what was left of the pizza pie.

"I understand," one man said to the new man who'd discerned himself as Ti. They shook hands in that knowing way, and the rest of his new friends shook their heads to promote the idea that they All understood the symbolism.

"Making a tour," Ti explained. Both sexes hung on to his words like they were money in their land. "That way." He pointed with a clay encrusted finger. His destination seemed to make sense because of the pizza.

"Road's dusty," another man said.

"It's a journey you have to take. You've got to go. I've got protection." The women gasped, but the men failed to see themselves jealous. "I've got a gun."

They brought out the map from one of the bookbags. State college layout was on the front, but they turned it over, and showed the entire state to Ti at once.

"Come live with us. You'll pass through here, right?" Ti nodded and the way the students seemed to be spaced out, he had rooms right up until the state's border.

They smiled him goodbye and everyone felt better as the man with no money taught the quiet dirt road his feet. The men tried going back to the chicken livers; there was still some breading left down at the very bottom of 2 of the boxes, but it didn't feel the same. Full academic discussion supervened on the fact that Dino's was on the way home, and they prided themselves on the fact that the pizza establishment was neither corporate nor did it accept coupons. Somehow it all felt right.

But disappointment came to the couples individually for several nights. Just the usual drugees, band members, political rebels and Ticketmaster picketers showed up, drank the nectar, smoked the weed, and everyone petted the basset hound dying in the corner. Morge went to the short icebox and opened the door. She left it open, she sat down, reveling in the feeling of being an adult. A short philosophical altercation ensued between the man and woman, with bits of bands agreeing to basic isms and dogmatic equations between the walk from the piss chamber (the only reason they came, some of them) to the front and only door, but they were interrupted by a knocking.

Then the doorbell rang and the door was answenavy. Ti was standing there, going on to himself about the political and social structures that Must prove that the doorbell is in fact really there. The man came to door, deep in thought; he'd overheard some of this, and they hmmmed and broke the bones of the doctrine as Ti came in, saying, "If I don't want it to be there, it can hardly be, can it?"

"But what if I want the doorbell to be there?" Morge asked.

"Then for you it is. Isn't it?"

They sat deep in the sofa.

Ti brought a special dressing he made himself from oil and cloves, and many interesting hours were spent pouring the mixture into the john. So interesting in fact, it became almost a cult conversation among the many friends waiting to get their personal hooks into Ti who was moving on slowly but certainly. The symbolism was great and at each home or apt he stopped; as they pounavy the liquid into the commode, they pondenavy on the specific aspects of intuitionism, nominalism, conceptualism, pragmatism, and expounded on the Chinese beliefs that are at the center of so many scholarly achievements in the grants programs. But somehow it grew much more spiritual. They could no longer put it into words, and only the flushing of the toilet between pours cleansed the cluttenavy and often confused minds of the house, or apt.

"Where are you going?" Jhon asked when he'd first opened the door.

"To find myself," Ti answenavy.

"Do you know where you are?" Vnthe asked, not trying to be funny.

Ti pointed to the window and they knew what he meant. Vnthe cleaned up her panties from the cable box and the 2 men moved to the extra bedroom so the arrival could unpack. But Jhon wanted to see the liquid. He'd heard so much about it. Talked, speculated so much on it. But the only bottled mixture in the worn Emergency (tv show) backpack was far from clear. It almost looked like sewage, human or other.

Ti came back from hanging up his 2 piece suit and Jhon had a puzzled expression. Vnthe came in, all smiles, but she could tell something was unclear. They moved to the bathroom.

"I've moved on to a celebrated mixture of peppercorn sauce potato I recently read in a cookbook," Ti explained.

"Huh?" Two voices as one.

The guest uncorked the small glass bottle and the chugging sound the small bits of potato made as they glopped out was strange, very strange to the couple. They didn't understand. They asked.

"It's peppercorn sauce potato," he reiterated.

They watched the mixture fall. The color was briefly navy, mostly pink and the combination it made with the Sani-Flush was completely beyond them.

They had to wait four hours. They didn't know what they wanted before then. And they couldn't... do what they had to do before the guy had had his dinner.

They asked him to leave, and Ti thought about his new peppercorn sauce potato. He nodded and the door slammed louder than necessary when he was on the outside world. Ti looked in his pocket and tried to determine for how long this currency was going to put him up at the navy Roof Inn at $19.95 a single night.

Lyrics

What I Got

by Sublime

Early in the morning,
risin' to the street,
light me up that cigarette
and I strap shoes on my feet.
Got to find a reason,
reason things went wrong.
Got to find a reason
why my money's all gone.
I got a dalmation
and I can still get high.
I can play the guitar
like a mother fucking riot.

Life is too short
so love the one you got
cause you might get runover,
or you might get shot.
Never start no static
I just get it off my chest.
Never had to battle
with no bulletproof vest.
Take a small example,
a tip from me..
take all of your money
and give it up to charity.
Lovin's what I got,
it's withing my reach
(and the sublime style
is still straight from long beach)
It all comes back to you,
you're gonna get what you deserve.
Try and test that,
you're bound to get served.
Love's what I got,
don't start a riot,
You feel it
when the dance gets hot.
Lovin' is what I got,
I said remember that.

Why I don't cry
when my dog runs away.
I don't get angry
at the bills I have to pay.
I don't get angry
when my Mom smokes pot,
hits that botte
and goes back to the rock.
Fuckin and fighting
it's all the same.
Livin' with Louie dog's
the only way to stay sane.
Let the lovin come back to me
Lovin' is what I got,
I said remember that.

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born slippy

by Underworld

drive boy dog boy
dirty numb angel boy
in the doorway boy
she was a lipstick boy
she was a beautiful boy
and tears boy
and all in your innerspace boy
you had hands girl boy
and steel boy
you had chemicals boy
ive grown so close to you boy
and you just groan boy
she said comeover comeover
she smiled at you boy.

let your feelings slip boy
but never your mask boy
random blonde bio high density
rhythm blonde boy
blonde country blonde high density
you are my drug boy
youre real boy
speak to me and boy
dog dirty numb cracking boy
you get wet boy
big big time boy
acid bear boy
babes and babes
and babes and babes and babes
and remembering nothing boy.
you like my tin horn boy
and get wet like an angel.

derail.
you got a velvet mouth
youre so succulent
and beautiful shimmering
and dirty wonderful
and hot times
on your telephone line
and god and everything
on your telephone
and in walk an angel.

and look at me
your mom squatting pissed
in a tube hole
at tottenham court road
i just come out of the ship
talking to the most blonde
i ever met.
shouting lager lager lager lager
shouting lager lager lager lager
shouting lager lager lager
shouting mega mega black thing
mega mega black thing
mega mega black thing
mega mega shouting
lager lager lager lager
mega mega black thing
mega mega black thing
so many things to see and do
in the tube hole true blonde
going back to romford
mega mega mega
going back to romford
hi mom are you having fun
and now are you on your way
to a new tension headache.

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Poetry

Ode to Third Grade Love

by Michael

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7 + 1 = 2 Religions

by Dax

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Rain

by Abby

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Poetry

by Dax

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Non Fiction

Censorship

by Dax

Censorship in any public educational institution within the United States violates the First Amendment of the Constitution and is therefore illegal through unconstitutional grounds. The Amendment explicitly states that "Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press."

So how then can a public school newspaper of any kind, be censored? And how can that censorship be justified by the Supreme Court of the United States?

I am just as dumbfounded as you are.

But, it has been. An clear example was ruled by the Supreme Court in 1988 against the students of the Hazelwood East High School Newspaper. In 1983, students attempted to print two articles that the school's principal objected to: one described three unnamed students' experiences with pregnancy; the other dealt with divorce and its impact on the student psyche. When the principal forced the purgation of both articles from the newspaper, the young journalists sued the school district on grounds of a First Amendment violation. After many appeals and overturned rulings, the Supreme Court ruled six to three in favor of the administration, and thus in favor of censorship.

The majority opinion contended that a public school could censor speech that conflicts with its "basic educational mission." Thus, the censoring of any conflicting speech would not violate the First Amendment. The "basic educational mission," however, was not defined by the Court, even vaguely.

Through private institutions, parents can pick the school their children will attend. Parents pay for their children's attendance, most likely on the basis of the schools "basic educational mission," which is usually explicitly stated in a handbook type publication. If this handbook includes guidelines concerning what information the students of the school should be surrounded with, so be it, there is nothing there that violates the First Amendment.

Opposing, in the American public education system, parents do not choose which school their children will attend; the school is simply determined by which district they happen to live in. Furthermore each public school is supposed to provide essentially "free" education of no difference in value than any of its sister public schools. Thus, the "basic educational mission" of all public schools must be same yet it is not written down anywhere. Thus, there can be no clear conflict between any public school publication and the school's "basic educational mission," and therefore no public school publication should be censored on the basis of "mission" conflict.

Furthermore, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights is purposely vague, and the Supreme Court's duty is to interpret the country's defining documents in times of conflict. As for interpreting the freedom of speech and press clauses of the First Amendment, the Supreme Court has repeatedly decided two things: slander and libel for solely malicious purposes is illegal, and speech or press which endangers other citizens (such as yelling fire in a crowded theater) is also illegal. The Hazelwood students, of course, violated neither of these propositions. But doesn't mature ideas, like those found in the newspaper in question, endanger ignorant and innocent students and thus violate the First Ammendment through Supreme Court rulings?

No, of course not. The Hazelwood School Newspaper, as like most publications, is clearly only read by choice. It is available to all that wish to read it, but it is not forced on anyone to take or read. Moreover, all students involved in the two censored compositions went unnamed and were not forced to share their experiences or opinions. Besides, no slander or libel was presented, and no students were endangered; the articles' purpose were just to inform other students of prevalent issues in their surrounding society.

These are well-developed seemingly indisputable points. They are logical. They are, though, in all practical purposes meaningless if the Supreme Court continues to rule against Freedom of Speech for the sake of the parents of our nation.

Worthy parenting, after all, is not hiding every controversial or mature idea or vice from your children. This type of parenting only brings forth ignorant individuals who live in a house of cards which crumbles before their eyes at the age of eighteen, when they meet with real world concepts.

Worthy parenting is exposure and teaching through experience and knowledge. Probably only when this type of parenting is implemented throughout America will Hazelwood East High School students be protected by their "inalienable rights." Yes indeed, they should be protected now, but then is our country truly free?

More Non-Fiction

History

by Dax

These are not rhetorical questions—people do care passionately: political scientists and historians and war heroes and veterans and various other such people who spend their lives studying past occurrences. And why? What if nuclear holocaust occurs and we happen to lose every record of political history everywhere? What would happen?

And yes I mean even Holocaust records too.

Years go by, generations go by, and soon the verbal legends of Hitler have died out. Duck and cover! History's about to repeat itself. No, of course I don't condone genocide or wish it to occur, but genocide is occurring right now, and will probably always occur in every present time. At least until everybody in the world gets a decent education.

People trying to rule other people is no new occurrence. Every war points out this fact, and everyone who has started another war most likely had some knowledge of some past war and its consequences. Did that knowledge stop them from repeating past occurrences? No. If anything, knowledge of past genocide and torture techniques and war tactics led the individual to more drastic, more inhumane and probably more efficient war tactics.

If you raise a child without telling them about war or genocide or prejudice, I doubt the child will come to these drastic vices on his/her own terms. Contrary to popular belief, greed and prejudice are not intrinsic human nature all of the time; this is manifest in a perfectly sound societies like kibbutz. Only when societies try to unnecessarily attain the same resources do political struggles arise. And although I can not prove this, I suspect that the greed inherent in these political struggles was introduced as a concept by societal arrangements—not naturally.

Yes, we are animals, but also, yes, we do maintain usually an important psychological distinction between other animal species and us. We have the ability or potential for developed complex thought. We can reason effectively and behave triadically unlike other animals. This potential could enable us to out smart our animal instincts of greed and prejudice and such (if they indeed are animal instincts). We must just create societies based upon thinking and knowing—on developed complex thought. As of now, we are terribly far from such utopia.

Studying history will never help us attain this utopian society. History can instruct developing individuals how to hate and kill. If it were not for history I doubt all young males would want to be a navy seal or army ranger or special ops star. The children do not just create these aspirations out of thin air. History does the job—in books and television and movies and toys. I am not advocating that all records everywhere be destroyed, I am just suggesting that history is not doing what people believe history is doing.

History will inevitably repeat itself, if there are records of it.

And that isn't all. History itself, its substance, is not all that it is made up to be. How can we be sure, beyond a reasonable doubt, that our records of history are all accurate. Yes, there are primary sources, but how do we know that these sources are truly authentic? People, for whatever reason, could be planting fake primary sources all of the time, and thus our accounts could be utterly miscalculated. Additionally, most of our taught history is not based upon primary sources, but secondary sources and archeology and such. I am positive that these sources are not near one hundred percent accurate.

Furthermore, our accounts of history completely ignore the masses. They detail the ruling classes and royalty and armies which, at most, comprise two to five percent of a given society. What about the other ninety-five percent. After all, that big chunk most likely includes you and I. Our perspectives, the majority perspectives, are not even recorded and obviously not taught in history.

At length, some people enjoy reading about past events. And that's fine. I love to read fiction. All I am saying is that my fiction and your history may be closer than you ever imagined.

But what experience and history teach is this—that peoples and governments have never learned anything from history, or acted on principles deduced from it.
--George Hegel

History. An account, mostly false, of events, mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers, mostly knaves, and soldiers, mostly fools.
--Ambrose Bierce

The History of the world is the record of the weakness, frailty and death of public opinion.
--Samuel Butler

Events in the past may be roughly divided into those which probably never happened and those which do not matter. This is what makes the trade of historian so attractive.
--W. R. Inge

History, real solemn history, I cannot be interested in…I read it a little as a duty; but it tells me nothing that does not either vex or weary me. The quarrels of popes and kings, with wars and pestilences in every page; the men all so good for nothing, and hardly any women at all.
--Jane Austen

Humor

Final Exam

Science

Chemical Equivilency List

How To Mix Dry Ingredients

from The Big Book of Mischief

1. Take a large sheet of smooth paper (for example a page from a newspaper that does not use staples)
2. Measure out the appropriate amounts of the two chemicals, and pour them in two small heaps near opposite corners of the sheet.
3. Pick up the sheet by the two corners near the piles, allowing the powders to roll towards the center of the sheet.
4. By raising one corner and then the other, rock the powders back and forth in the middle of the open sheet, taking care not to let the mixture spill from either of the loose ends.
5. Pour the powder off from the middle of the sheet, and use it immediately. Use airtight containers for storage, It's best to use 35mm film canisters or other jars which do not have screw-on tops. If you must keep the mixture for long periods, place a small packet of desiccant in the container, and never store near heat or valuable items.

Technology

Tapping into Cordless Phone Signals

by Jeriatrick

The first - Get one of those Fisher Price baby monitors. We want only the receiving end. Set it to C. Now turn it on and ride around your neighbourhood.This dosen't work with all the cordless phones, but with a lot. The nice thing about this style is you can pick up a very clear signal.You can also use one of those $10 kids walkie talkies, but they don't pick up as good.One thing you will notice though is that when the walkie talkie's send button is pressed it will cause interference and sometimes what you say will appear on their phone. That is because they all work of FM.

The second - For the older phones, is a bit tougher. Get an AM radio and open it up. Find the small plastic box inside and adjust the screws (not too much at a time) you want to try to get the frequency down a few thousand KHz.If it desen't work, find the little silver boxes with the colonavy screws on top and play with them.

The Third - Buy some expensive walkie talkies (eg.the $60 ones from Radio Shack).Make sure they are FM.Open it and play with the little silver boxes with colonavy screws, or if you are really into electronics and really need this, change the crystal...

Well, those are my tips on tapping cordless phones. There are other ways, but I either haven't heard of them yet, or decided it wasn't worth it to include them in this article.

source: CATSlash Magazine issue 1 - August, 1996

Chemistry

Household Gunpowder

by Common Knowledge

Tear Gas

from The Terrorist's Handbook

1. ring stands (2)
2. alcohol burner
3. erlenmeyer flask, 300 ml
4. clamps (2)
5. rubber stopper
6. glass tubing
7. clamp holder
8. condenser
9. rubber tubing
10. collecting flask
11. air trap
12. beaker, 300 ml

1. 10 gms glycerine
2. 2 gms sodium bisulfate
3. distilled water

1. In an open area, wearing a gas mask, mix 10 gms of glycerine with 2 gms of sodium bisulfate in the 300 ml erlenmeyer flask.
2. Light the alcohol burner, and gently heat the flask.
3. The mixture will begin to bubble and froth; these bubbles are tear gas.
4. When the mixture being heated ceases to froth and generate gas, or a brown residue becomes visible in the tube, the reaction is complete. Remove the heat source, and dispose of the heated mixture, as it is corrosive.
5. The material that condenses in the condenser and drips into the collecting flask is tear gas. It must be capped tightly, and stored in a safe place.