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DRAMA and TRUST

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DRAMA and TRUST Powered By Docstoc
					                                                                                                   (Special “Keepin’ It Real Issue”)

        (Cover artwork by Ben Hinz)                                                            (Featuring: Ben Hinz, David Recine, Darren
                                                                                                 Neff, Chris Decker, Bianca, Mark Lone,
                                                                                                     Nate LeBarron, Jim Engel, Yuey
                                                                                                 Kazemzadeh, Kort Fox, Penelope Gray,
                                                                                                Erik Meyer, Bob Zessman, Nott A. Terrist,
                                                                                                 Ian Betsinger, Carolyn Grissmeyer, and
                                                                                                              Chris West.)




                                                          DRAMA and TRUST
          Hello again, everyone, and welcome to another issue. A lot has happened in my life since the last issue. On the downside, I
lost my driver’s license for a while, enrolled in a positively horrid summer session class. (Retaking English 110, which I kindasorta
flunked freshmen year. My professor, Bergine Haakenson, is the class’s only real saving grace. And I'm not just saying that because I
know she's reading this.) On the upside, I had a blast at Luke and Morgan’s wedding reception, and experienced my first time getting
stoned and my first time kissing/making out with a girl. (And no, I won’t tell you who it was. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. I ain’t
a gentleman, but I have my moments.) Mundane experiences? Perhaps. Dramatic experiences? Probably not, at least not to anyone but
me. But one would suppose we’re all entitled to our dramas-of-the-mundane. And I think a little drama’s a good thing. It’s cathartic to
take time out revel in the ordinary, to find the freedom to sweat the small stuff. Drama/melodrama provides relief--- if life can’t
always be fun, at least it can be entertaining. Like catharsis, drama is (in my opinion) a functional construct rooted in human
imagination rather than in objective reality. Relief is a vital human emotional need.
                   Of course, drama can turn into a bad thing. Even the best of us get caught in this sorta quagmire all too often; a
quagmire of who-cheated-who/who-shit-talked-who confusion and ill will. For myself and others, there is always the peril of getting
caught in a labyrinth of head games. This labyrinth can be left even less navigable when the disputed events take place when the
people in question were too drunk to perceive these important matters with proper clarity.
          My point--- our semiharmless vices, whether they be the use of illicit substances, melodrama, casual kissing, what have you,
make us human. But they need to be engaged in with another human emotional need in mind: trust. I don’t think the perils of drama
truly lie in infidelity, betrayal or substance abuse. These problems arise when we choose to share deeply personal experiences---
experiences that should bring us joy and make us feel alive--- with people we don’t trust. Who doesn’t feel vulnerable when they are
altering their state of consciousness, baring their soul about the little things, or sharing any semblance of physical intimacy?
Vulnerability ain’t bad. Not inherently at least. The trick, as I’ve been learning, is to find trustworthy people worth sharing one’s
vulnerabilities--- one’s dramas--- with. So go out and find someone you trust. Feel alive in this era of prolonged adolescence. And in
the meantime….
                                                            ENJOY THE ISSUE
                                                        David Recine, July-ish, 2004
STICK FIGURE THEATER PRESENTS: “GUY TALK”




       MY FIRST COMIC by Darren Neff
                                                              THIS ISSUE’S FEATURED HATE MAIL SENT
                                                                           TO A WEBSITE:
                                                            Even though i do not know much about ninjas, I must say that
                                                            your site is crap. It's sadly amusing, I'll give you that. I mean,
                                                            where else can I read about some old man popping 19 boners...?
                                                            Do you even know what a boner is ya retard? Anothing thing..
                                                            how can one smear pap all over anything? A papsmear is a test
                                                            where your boobs are mushed (for lack of better word) in
                                                            between two panes of glass to look for tumours and the like.
                                                            There is no smearing of anything involved. So giggle as much as
                                                            you want over this, little schoolgirl. Get a life, but first get a
                                                            brain.

                                                            Bianca


                                                            See what all the fuss is about!
                                                            Visit:       www.realultimatepower.net

Something I Drew When I was 10! (Cripes, I can’t believe I still have this…)
                                                                                I have been so condescending lately, that I thought that
                                                                                I’d do an uplifting piece representing the “patriotic”
                                                                                side of my nature in light of the recent capture of
                                                                                Saddam Hussein. Here it is:

                                                                                The Top 10 Reasons we Captured
                                                                                Saddam:

                                                                                 10. General Sanchez pinned the tail on the donkey in
                                                                                the right spot.
                                                                                9. Saddam was in piss and shit up to his neck and
                                                                                doesn’t know how to swim.
                                                                                8. He ran out of Twinkies.
                                                                                7. Osama drew us a map to throw us off his own trail.
                                                                                6. Troops drew him out with promises of the three H’s:
                                                                                Hummus, Harem, and Haircut.
                                                                                5. The reception on his TV was on the fritz; He got out
                                                                                to check the antenna.
                                                                                4. The people who brought him food got tired of “that
                                                                                old guy in the hole bitching”.
                                                                                3. Troops followed the B. O.
                                                                                2. The turban sticking out of the sand was a dead
                                                                                giveaway.
                                                                                1. He came out to read the latest issue of Fanboy.

                                                                                This was a very difficult article to write. The hardest
                                                                                part was narrowing down choices for the top 10.
                                                                                Several suggestions that failed to make the list were:

                                                                                *Someone told him the war was over and he had won.
                                                                                *Came out to check his e-mail
                                                                                *Came out to acquire copy of Paris Hilton’s sex tape
                                                                                *His alias “The dictator formerly known as Saddam”.
                                                                                Not working so well. (recently changed to the symbol
                                                                                ( )*( ) )
                                                                                *Gave himself up figuring he had enough experience
                                                                                in killing to become a professional rapper.
                                                                                *How long could you stand sand in your crack?


                                                                                                              - Nate Le Barron
RUFUS___by_Mark_Lone
TO BE CONTINUED….
(Mark Lone is one strange sick puppy! – ed.)
                                                          DIETING
                                                       by Nate LeBarron

         I find dieting amazingly retarded. The idea that an individual can focus on only one type of energy that they are putting
into their body such as: fat, calories, or carbs and actually lose weight is ridiculous. The only way to lose weight is to burn more
energy than you take in. A classic example of the stupidity of dieting came when some guy (I read this on CNN.com) went to a
buffet-style restaurant and ate 12 servings of roast beef and nothing else because he was on the low carb Atkins craze diet. The
manager of the store who just happened to be slicing the roast beef became “concerned that there would not be enough beef for
the other customers” and refused to serve the man more meat, indicating that it was not an all you can eat buffet. Instead of
packing down the meat with a couple of pounds of salad, the customer became angry and unruly and eventually the manager
called the cops.
         There are two things wrong with this story that I can see. First of all, the manager should know darn well that in a
buffet style restaurant the patron makes the presumption that he or she can eat as much as he or she pleases, regardless of
whether or not the classic “all-you-can-eat” slogan is displayed. Furthermore, any buffet style restaurant that runs out of the
food that is probably the main course for their buffet should fire their management for lack of efficiency and common sense.
That having been said, the restaurant is not completely to blame. Any idiot who eats 12 servings of roast beef is not dieting, no
matter what they say. If this tubby moron had a problem with eating too many carbs and being fat, gorging himself on protein
instead is not the way to lose weight. There is a big reason body builders eat protein bars: they make you gain weight. There
was absolutely no reason for this pudgy bastard to eat more meat. What he should have been doing was eating 12 servings of
salad. No manager in the world is going to bitch if you eat all his primo iceberg lettuce; now if you eat all of his twelve-dollar-
per-pound prime rib in one sitting he might get a little pissed. The gist of this little editorial is that dieting is stupid. If the
average person believes that they can lose weight by eating outrageous portions of specific types of food, then my belief in the
idea of the electoral college is reaffirmed. If people are this dumb over the food they put into their bodies, then our founding
fathers were correct in their assumption that the average American is too stupid to chose their own elected officials. This person
gives all Americans a bad name. No wonder most of the world thinks that we’re all fat and lazy. Twelve portions of
meat!?!?!?!

Buttons by Jim Engel




Murky Waters by that guy who does that thing (The “Love Stinks” storyline will resume next issue --- Smilin’ Stan)
Drawn at the Joynt by Yuey Kazemzadeh, David Recine, and Mark Lone




                                            POEMS
Road Kill Kitty                                        Take Me
by Kort Fox                                            by Penelope Gray

                                                       Everything I have
Poor little kitty                                      Everything I need
All flat on the road                                   Everything I’ve earned
Don’t you wish now                                     Everything I breathe
That you were a toad                                   They stand in line to rob me blind
                                                       They take, take, take everything that’s mine
For toads don’t have to wander                         They take my language
Around all the time                                    Take my thoughts
They just sit in a swamp                               Take my talent
And are happy with slime                               Take my soul
                                                       They push and shove, I’ve had enough
                                                       Take, take, take everything I love
But you wanted to chase birdies
And bite off their heads                               They take my clothes
Though all that it got you                             Take my drugs
Was smuck-ed and dead                                  Take my smokes
                                                       Take my money
Poor road-kill kitty                                   One by one, grab it and run
                                                       Take, take, take, everything that’s fun
With your head all smashed in
When you tangle with a truck                           They take my energy
You know you can’t win                                 Take my time
                                                       Take my body
So here’s a little hint                                Take my pride
                                                       Beg and plead, on hands and knees
If you have a life left                                Take, take, take, everything I need
When crossing the road
Look right and then left                               They give me problems
                                                       Give me debts
                                                       Give me shit
                                                       Give me stress
                                                       Give me issues
                                                       Give me upsets
                                                       Give me nausea
                                                       Give me regrets
                                                       Throwing stones, never leave me alone
                                                       Give, give, give everything I loathe
This panel has been voted down
for publication 2-1. (Speedro in
favor; Speedro’s girlfriend and I
against.)

“I can feel the bile rising to my
throat.”
--direct quote, Bob Zessman
(Speed’s girlfriend)
                                                Our President the Terrorist
                                                      by: Nott A. Terrist

         I was reading the news on www.cnn.com the other           with criminal proceedings. Sounds like intimidation to
day when I ran across an article on street gangs being             me...
charged with terrorism under the Patriot Act. According to                 Furthermore, let it not be forgotten that the ONLY
the article, police charged the “St. James Gang acted with         reason we went to war with Iraq is because they were an
‘the intent to intimidate or coerce a civilian population,’        “imminent threat” (ie: WMD) not to help the Iraqis. The
Bronx District Attorney Robert Johnson said the grand jury         American people were coerced into believing that Saddam
was justified in adding the terrorism stipulation to several       Hussein was a threat. To this day the President refuses to
counts including conspiracy, murder and gang assault.”             admit that Iraq had no connection to Al-Qaeda.
                                                                           In addition it seems as if the prisoner abuse scandal
 “He should be tried as a                                          which Donald Rumsfeld attempted to cover up is
                                                                   paramount to conspiracy (I bet more than five people were
 terrorist under his own                                           involved in trying to cover Rumsfeld’s ass from December
                                                                   when he found out about the abuse to April or May when
law for the wrongs he has                                          the actual pictures of abuse were released. Bush sent our
                                                                   troops to their deaths to further his own agenda, which in
  done to the American                                             my mind is murder. Now guards accused of abuse in Iraqi
                                                                   prisons claim they were following orders in their assaults

   people and the Iraqi                                            on prisoners of war. I could go off on a tangent here about
                                                                   how the Bush Administration compares to Hitler’s Nazi
                                                                   Germany, but that has been done already.
         people.”
         Given the nature of the entity being punished here,            “…some striking
some would say that the punishment is just. However,
when one takes a closer look at the wording of the article           similarities between our
some striking similarities between our current Presidential
Administration and a common street gang come to light.                 current Presidential
         Since September 11, 2001 our President and his
cabinet have done their best to keep all of America in fear
or at least terrorized enough to no longer think rationally,
                                                                      Administration and a
but rather along “fear guidelines”. We all remember the
woman who freaked out and called “authorities” when she
                                                                       common street gang
heard several male Muslims talking “suspiciously”. It turns
out that the four or five males were actually students and                come to light.”
had nothing what-so-ever to do with terrorism. This is a                    So, the St. James Gang intimidated, coerced,
prime example of the fear this administration has instilled in     murdered, assaulted, and formed a conspiracy against the
people.                                                            general public for which they are punished. Our President
         In virtually all of his speeches, the President           and his illustrious cabinet also intimidated, coerced, and
references terror at least once. I can’t recall any time since     formed a conspiracy to hide facts from the American people
the five-step terror alert program has been initiated that the     in addition to killing over 700 American soldiers with his
threat level has dropped below level three (yellow). Are we        reckless actions. As a result of the President’s actions
really under level three threats all the time!!?!?!?! Not in       “prisoners” in Iraqi prisons have been tortured and sexually
Wisconsin.                                                         abused. We should do everything in our power to make
         The President’s re-election campaign focuses on           sure these wrongs do not go unpunished. Write to your local
how America would be less safe under John Kerry. I for             senator or congressman and suggest they impeach President
one feel intimidated by Bush’s Administration. Bush was            Bush. He should be tried as a terrorist under his own law
recently in Wisconsin, and I was going to see one of his           for the wrongs he has done to the American people and the
speeches (if only to boo him). The reason I didn’t go is           Iraqi people. Send a clear message that our President is
because I read an article that said Bush has “free speech          NOT above the laws of our country.
zones” set apart from the regular spectator area where the
Secret Service “puts” people who they feel will voice              The article referenced in this editorial used to be found
opinion against the President. Hecklers of Bush have been          here:
hassled by Secret Service agents in the past and threatened        http://www.cnn.com/2004/LAW/05/14/gang.terror.ap/index.html
                                                                   I wonder why they withdrew the story so fast.....
Elvin Doom (working title) The first page of a work in progress by Ben Hinz. More to come in upcoming issues.
        ADVENUTURES OF THE HAMSTER: ’NOTHER FAX FROM MY TWISTED PSYCHE
(Since apparently a lot of folk liked the first one. I “wrote” this letter while keeping Spindle and Jessica company during a rather
                                                 uneventful shift at the House of Rock.)




             Hey Kids! It’s KORT’S SKETCHBOOK!
                                                            Summer Daze, Part 3
                                                By Ian Betsinger (words) and Carolyn Grissmeyer (pictures)




           Ok, so there I am, pushing my through a giggling mass of fat kids and inner tubes, seething with a combination of disgust and contempt as
I’m trying to get out of this fake river. I manage to finally get out onto the burning hot concrete and I make my way over to a shady spot near the
restaurant. My bare feet are burning almost as hot as my desire for revenge so I kick them up and set the gears in my head to churn out a plan.
           I look around me for some kind of inspiration when who should I see, but my little friend - the ten year old black Jackie Chan! He's
standing near some other kids, sipping on some red sugar water, throwing punches when the other boys get to close. He's no doubt recharging his
batteries for another bout of kung fu mania, I can tell. I look around to spot the lifeguard who so rudely tossed me back into the water when I was in
the middle of expressing my love to my lady fair. He stood on the other side of the fake river, near her, flexing his muscles and looking quite the
force to be reckoned with. My fighting spirit dribbled to the sidewalk and evaporated in the hot sun. I would need speed and guile to win this war.
           Suddenly a plan burst into my head. I walked nonchalantly towards the young lad, picking my feet up rapidly to avoid burns from the hot
concrete. He stood with his back turned towards me, and he never expected me. I sidled up near his left side, and tapped his right shoulder. He threw
a glance to his right, and thinking his little comrade had dared strike him he reared back to deliver a killing blow. As he stretched out his other arm
for balance, I snatched his drink out of his hand and beat feet towards the bridge that crossed that ridiculous fake river.
           I ran fast and hard, but I had underestimated the total distance to the bridge, it looked so much closer from the refreshments tent! Now I
was in for a 100 yard dash! The little man was fast and he was on my tail from the get-go. I dodged mother and child and elderly alike as I made for
the bridge but I stubbed my toe on a stroller and nearly threw the infant out. I looked back momentarily to and I saw my pursuer closer than ever. He
was worked up into such a rage, I now realized that it was a fire indeed that I had stolen.
           I turned the corner and sprinted across the bridge, rounding yet one more corner as I raced towards the life guard who had tormented me
earlier. I called out to him as I approached.

"You, there! O sworn enemy who stands so tall and proud! Your might will soon leave and you will learn the true meaning of defeat, fiend!"
          My words rang loud and clear, and he turned to see what all the noise was about. He saw me coming towards him and faced me with
brutish anticipation. His stupid grin faltered into surprised as I tossed the Styrofoam drink container to him.
          "Catch, fool!"
          I ducked past him and turned around just in time to see my enraged kung fu hero slam full force between the lifeguard’s legs. The lifeguard
dropped the drink, which the boy caught. The young lad turned around and sipped his reclaimed treat with an air of victory. And the lifeguard, now
stunned and swaying in a drunkish daze, needed just one swift kick in the pants (which I generously dealt him) to send him crashing into the fake
river where he was carried down stream by that giggling conglomeration of fat kids and floaties.
          I now turned to my rescued princess, and gazed upon her with all the affection in my soul. I wrapped my hand about her waist, pulled her
warm body close to me, put one hand to her cheek and kissed her as if she were my bride. The stars aligned and the universe blinked out of
existence. She and I were alone in a swirling maelstrom of emotion and passion.
          Our lips parted and our faces drifted slowly apart. Her eyes opened slowly, blinked twice. I grinned. Her face twisted as she came back to
reality and she put both hands on my chest and gave me a strong push. I tripped, flipped, and crashed back into the fake river where I was subdued
and set to drift in the powerful current of locomoting fat kids in floaties and innertubes.

The End.
TRUE IDIOT DRINKIN STORIES:
       Birthday Party of the Damned
….And she’s actually e-mailed me back a few times since! Neat, huh?
                                      Chris West’s FANBOY REVUE




This concludes Fanboy’s broadcast issue. All of us here at Vanity Press, including Roadster Chicken, Bunnydog, Roche
                  Clipp, and Meep think you should go see Farenheit 911, regardless of your politics.
For Fanboy:
Co-founders:
Chris Decker,
Nate LeBarron
Editor/back
page guy: Chris
West
Editor-in-
chief/publisher/
founder: David
Recine
                                                                                                                       p

				
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