Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine
Volume II, Issue 39, Year AD MCMXCVII
Monday, October 27th, 1997
ISSN 1482-0471
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If architects made buildings the same way programmers made programs, 
the first woodpecker to come to a city would destroy civilization.

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"You never call me!"
"You want me to call you after you called me already 8 times today?"
"Well, yeah, I'm a woman. I need constant reassurance, you know?"

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1. Editorial 
2. Failing relationships 
3. Working in an office: a survival guide (kinda) 
4. why icq is the devil 
5. ten things to do with half a wheel-trim 
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This week's Golden Testicle award:

The Bambi Killers page

http://www.azstarnet.com/~rgrogan/bambi.htm

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1. Editorial

      by Leandro

This issue of CoN received a major torpedo hit on the portside 
(whatever part of the ship that is). IMPROV had sent me two articles 
to use for the next two issues, and unfortunately, due to some 
bizarre error along the transfer, each paragraph was missing the 
end. Since he had sent them to me a few hours before the 
distribution of this week's issue, I went looking for his number. I 
found my first girlfriend's phone number, which of course I thought 
was long lost, but no luck in finding his. I wrote him a desperate 
e-mail hoping that he would read it and so the minutes are ticking 
by before midnight.

  Every Monday, a script written by Gard, the Editor of 
Spontaneously Combusted Literature <http://www.scriba.org/slc> and 
administrator of the Scriba Org server, sends me a report of how 
many hits CoN's webpages have received and from where some of the 
hits came from. To my surprise many them look like this:

http://www.search.com/Infoseek/1,135,89,0200.html?QUERY=tight+asses&
COLL=WW

http://guide-
p.infoseek.com/Titles?qt=%22TIGHT+ASSES%22&col=WW&sv=A2&pg=q&what=we
b&fmt=&q=&x=25&y=5

  Okay. So a couple of them were looking for tight asses. I can 
understand that, since if you search for Capital of Nasty this is 
what the Query will report back:

Offensive Reading for the Masses
Achtung! - ATTENTION If you are in search of SMUT, hooters, legs, 
lips, tight asses, noses, fingers, body hair (male or female) or the 
Toronto Blizzards Soccer Club, then you have come to ...
100%   http://www.capnasty.org (Size 7.6K)

  This one left me even more surprised. I mean, come'on "How to jack 
off"?

http://www.infoseek.com/Titles?qt=tight+ass&oq=how+to+jack+off&sv=IS
&lk=noframes&nh=10&col=New+Search

  And this one?

http://w3.box.sk/cgi-
bin/marek/box/box?pwd=&prj=box&gfx=box&txt=Magaziny+spolocenske&key=
spomag&fil=*&lan=s

  I checked it and I got this under Capital of Nasty:

"Capital of Nasty - magazin pre tych, ktori sa nechcu dat politicky 
zorientovat!"

  Can someone translate that for me?

  In the last issue of CoN I had published the letters from freak-
woman. Remember her? She freaked in Issue 37 and then wrote that she 
couldn't wait for the next issue to come out. She did not write back 
but her friends did. Here is one of the letters, the most normal one 
I could find:

From: "Koi Verchandt" 
Subject: Friends of Bronwyn 


We love Bronwyn.
Be nice to her or expect the revenge of the fluffy bunny hugs.

Sincerely not fooling around.
The Friends of Bronwyn

  That message was followed by several virtual postcard with bunnies 
hugging.

  To make things worse I found myself caught in a terrible lack of 
inspiration. I started sobbing with Morbus, the Editor of Devil Shat 
<http://www.disobey.com>. For my lack of inspiration he suggested 
something quite interesting:

As for inspiration, beat me. Make me feel like my zine is 
insignificant. Write something about why Capital of Nasty is better 
than Devil Shat, and make three points. Tack it to your wall. Send 
it to me. I'll tack it to my wall. And then we'll have a helluva lot 
of inspiration for different reasons. Always worked for me. <g>

  Okay, so here are my three reasons why Capital of Nasty is better 
than Devil Shat:

My e-mail works more often then yours does. Instead of not receiving 
my message, I get parts of them. 
Brownyn Mitchell. Do you have your own freak-woman with her little 
freak-friends writing to you and sending you cuddly fluffy bunny 
hugs? I think not. 
Tight Asses and How to jerk off hits: I bet both of them you never 
got such delights. Ha! 
  Anyway, this editorial is already too long, so I'll stop now. My 
apologies to you all. I'll leave you with the latest edition of CoN 
wishing you all a cuddly fluffy bunny hug week.


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2. Failing Relationships

    by Rui Motta

Three years ago I nearly got married. Today I still wonder what got 
me out of that relationship. It must have been a force from up 
above. And I'm greatful it did.

Here's the deal:

  Sometimes you try too hard to make people around you very happy. 
It pleases you to see everybody cheerful, happy, smilling faces all 
over, but you often end up depressed, with a feeling of emptyness 
that drives you crazy. That happened to me. And I often wondered 
what had I done to deserve that. You know, we often think about what 
have we done to deserve something bad, whenever something is not 
right. And we, most of the times, tend to overlook good things (like 
pleasing everyone) and concentrate on bad things. That's it: 
sometimes we do wrong trying to do right.

  When I finally broke out of that relationship, I felt as if I had 
won a fight against Mike Tyson when, a few rounds before, I had been 
on the canvas. And that made me feel like Superman. Boy, that's as 
good as it gets. I promised, I would never let myself down again. 
Yes, I realized that I was the one to blame for being in that 
stinking position, since no one but me wanted to do that. So, from 
then onwards, I concentrated on being myself, letting others know 
that I, as well as them, had feelings and that whatever I did to 
please them I was not letting myself down. And that goes to every 
and each one of you who can pick something up from this story.

  I have now a great girlfriend but, from the beginning, I showed 
her that I was the way I was and that, if we were to take eachothers 
hand, we would have to take them knowing that they belonged to 
someone we knew inside out. Do not try to hide nothing inside, 
because it's only a matter of time it comes out... Show the othe 
person how you really are. Do not be affraid of being rejected, 
because if you get rejected, that was meant to be. On the other 
hand, if you cling together, it's a "Out of this World" feeling. 
You'll surely know what I'm talking about.

  When we find someone who we think it's especial, we tend to do 
everything within us to please them, often forgetting about 
ourselves. Do not make this mistake. Think of you as well. Don't get 
me wrong, but when we meet someone who deserves our innemost 
attention, try, also, to please yourself.

  That's the only way we can reach the highest point of hapinness in 
a relationship. I follow what I think and... so far so good.


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3. Working in an office: a survival guide (kinda)

     by Leandro

This article was originally meant as a strategy-guide in surviving 
around the office. But then I realized that it's not a topic worth 
an article on CoN and that I'm sure we all have good, well paying, 
soul satisfying office jobs, right? The article that replaces this 
one needs another name. I was thinking of "Vibrations through the 
night", so here goes:

Vibrations through the night
     by Leandro

I have the bad reputation of being a bad caller. People call me, I 
don't call them back. One day I get a phone call from Bell, the 
phone company which I am hooked up with. They ask me if I'd like to 
try any of their services, the first month being free. Since I had 
no answering machine, and I keep my line busy most of the time when 
I am connected to the Internet or I'm simply not at home, I told the 
guy to set me up for their CallAnswer service, basically a voicemail 
that answers the phone when I don't pick it up. Or if I am on the 
line it will take a message just like an ordinary answering machine. 
When people called, I thought, they can leave a message and I would 
call them back. Unfortunately I never checked the voicemail, leading 
to a buildup of messages. Apparentely you cannot have more than 25 
messages stored and those poor souls that dared to call me would 
hear a "this answering machine has exceeded it's maximum amount of 
allowed messages. Please call back at another time". This pissed off 
quite a few people, especially when I would return their calls a 
week later with "Hi! I just heard your message and..."

  By e-mail I was still fairly reachable, so those that were 
"online" would get in touch with me that way. That was until I 
started to receive a lot of e-mails through my several accounts. 
Then I started to receive a lot of mail because of Capital of Nasty. 
E-mails accumulated until I had a good 60 or 70 in my inbox waiting 
for a reply. A reply that by the time I actually wrote it, it was a 
little too late. More people were getting pissed off.

  On my 21st birthday, my friends gave me a little box as a present. 
I opened it up and found inside a pager. An innocent pager, of a 
dark cranberry colour and cute little buttons that I could push. As 
I was playing with it, I heard Betty make comments about "unanswered 
e-mails" and "full voicemails" but I pretended not to hear. The 
message was clear however, and so for the first few months I 
actually carried the pager around and when it beeped, I would call 
people back. Then of course the toy lost its fascination, and once 
in a while I would forget the pager in my room, only to find it 
vibrating on the floor.

  The other day I was leaving for work in a rush and left the little 
guy on top of one of my metal cabinets. As usual I had set the pager 
on vibrate, so that it doesn't disturb anyone when it goes off in 
the middle of the night.   When I came back, four hours later, the 
pager was gone. I look for it in my bag, on my other pair of pants, 
I even ask my sister thinking she might've took it to play with it, 
as she often does. Nobody has seen it, nobody knows where it is and 
my searches prove to be unsuccessful.

  The noise in the house is slowly dyeing down and my ear catches a 
sound, similar to the drone of a bee. Not even a second, then it's 
gone. A minute later I hear it again. And 60 seconds after that 
again. I finally figure out it's the pager. Someone must've paged 
me, and the pager probably fell off the cabinet due to the 
vibrations. "Good," I think, "it's in here somewhere. I'll find it 
tomorrow".

  It got quieter in the house. The vibration got louder. Wood, for 
those that don't know, has the effect of increasing the volume of 
any sound. I have a wooden floor, the pager was taking full 
advantage of it every 60 seconds, in it's 1 and a half second dance.

  Sleeping became impossible. I found myself turning all the lights 
on, and kneeling down on the floor trying to determine from where 
exactly the sound was coming from. One and a half second of 
vibration must not be enough for the human ear to catch the correct 
location of a small object vibrating on the floor. I was so sure at 
one time that I knew where it was, that I took everything sitting 
under the last shelf of the library out. The sound felt like it was 
coming now from the left, now from the right. And I had to wait 60 
precious frustrating torturing seconds for the next little buzz.

  Eventually I found the pager. It had travelled 16 feet from it's 
original location. It fell from the cabinet, went under the library, 
and found a final resting place against the wall under the chair. It 
was now 4 o'clock in the morning, and I had to be up in less than 
four hours. I turned the pager off, and it felt as if I had just put 
my head down on the pillow, since the alarm went off.

  I guess I have learned my lesson, and this is a warning to you 
all. If you don't call people, start doing it now before they give 
you a pager as a birthday gift. If you have a room "organized" like 
mine, you are going to spend many hours finding the little fucker, 
and you will realize for the first time in your life how long 60 
seconds can be.


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4. why icq is the devil

  by morbus

I like new technology and new ideas. I like to be connected to 
people, not white screens with words on them. I like saying people's 
names so much that it makes them uncomfortable. I like to be able to 
think that I am not a computer screen, and rather just someone 
looking into a big TV. That's part of the reason we do Devil Shat: 
to be able to communicate our ideas and opinions to a bunch of other 
people, and to get their responses back.

    As you might know, I test out a lot of new software. I was one 
of the first people to get the AOL Instant Messenger Software (of 
which my name, DevilShat, was recently revealed). And, I am now the 
proud tester of ICQ for the 68k Macintosh. How I got the software, 
and why I did is not the question, answer, or solution. But rather:

THE QUESTION: Why did you stay away from ICQ?

THE ANSWER: ICQ is the Devil.

THE SOLUTION: Explain why ICQ is the Devil, and then wholeheartedly 
embrace the technology.

  Okay... you see, a long time ago, I read the Bible. It wasn't 
something I was forced to do, it was something I wanted to do. I 
never understood why people criticize anything without getting 
enough information about it. One of the things that I remember is 
that when Satan came to kick some ass, everyone was going to receive 
a mark on their forehead or their right hand, and without that mark, 
we would not be able to buy or sell. And the mark would be the name 
of the beast, and the name of the beast is the number six hundred 
sixty six.

  Yada, yada, yada. For the longest time, I sat back in my great 
philosopher's chair, stroked my invisible goatee, and sucked on my 
bubble pipe and said that we were already in the Armageddon, simply 
because the barcode is a perfect representation of the mark. From 
there, I moved onto the idea of the "e-card", an electronic id that 
would hold all your money and all your transactions... replacing 
wealth with "credits".

  But those aren't the true marks, merely harbingers. I would 
hesitate to say (but do I must) that ICQ is the mark of the beast.

  ICQ, one of the most prolific Internet paging services, has 
finally jumped the platform from PC to Mac, and as such, has now 
accomplished almost complete integration with the computer world. 
The major difference between ICQ and most other online services 
(except Compuserve) is that you are represented by numbers. You are 
not a face, nor a name, but rather something evilly called a UIN. 
Your UIN is who you are... your name and info are second-best.

  For example, my UIN is 2927491. Isn't that peaceful? Were I 
playing Seven Card, I would have a pretty good starting hand. But in 
ICQ, I am just one of millions. It seems innocent at first, but when 
I went to their website to get more information, I realized that it 
is a lot more than innocence. Your number can optionally be added to 
hundreds of different groups of other numbers, all sharing something 
in common. You like trading lighters at Verve Pipe concerts? There 
is a group for you.

  And they proclaim wonderful availability. Why, you can even put 
your ICQ number on a business card, and people can contact you 
whenever you're online! Yet another vice of the devil: the loss of 
freedom. Much like a cellular phone on a vacation, anyone can 
intrude on you at any time. And like we are so prone to do, we can't 
just let a phone ring, or a pager vibrate... we have to do something 
about it. Otherwise, why do we bother paying for the service?

  So, "Morbus," you ask, "if ICQ is so damn evil, why should we 
embrace it?" Ahk, I dunno. A couple of disjointed reasons. One: 
hell, everybody's doin it. Two: It transform the harshness of the 
internet into a more friendly, online service environment. One of 
the nice things I remember about AOL was the fact that when people I 
knew came online, I could have a nice chat with them. Three: Nice 
implementation. In the PC version, there is support for a number of 
different games or "extras" that allow you to extend it into much 
more than just a pager program.

  Of course, as with any advice, there is always an equal number of 
vices. Everybody's doin it. Yeah, that's good, but the first day I 
used it, the network shut down for fifteen minutes at a time. 
Perhaps a mirror of an AOL denial of service. And sure, it makes the 
mean ol' internet user friendly, but it also intrudes into your 
work, and perhaps your "veg" time. And, yes, it may be pretty, and 
have a whole bunch of neat little add-ons, but those are only a few 
of the tricks to lull us into a false sense of security. Already on 
discussion groups do I see threads consisting of "intercepting ICQ 
messages" and so forth. It won't be long before the media starts 
using credit card scare tactics.

Should we embrace the devil? We have before.

This article appeared courtesy of Disobey, and appeared originally 
in Devil Shat, a biweekly zine that is better than Capital of Nasty 
because they keep borrowing articles from it to use in this zine. 
Subscriptions can be sent to morbus@disobey.com. Or, you can read 
them all at the website: http://www.disobey.com


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5. ten things to do with half a wheel-trim

    by The alarmingly uneventful Adventures of Rik

A fancy dress hat. A delightful tray for serving light refreshment 
at parties. A crap frisbee. A bizarre torture device for dwarves. A 
snow-shoe. A strange temple for insects. A device that no home can 
be without for gullible fools. A stupidly small shield for medievil 
questing knights. A handy bird table for the garden of accountants 
from Slough. .ooo, erm,hmmm,can anyone else think of a number 10? 
does anyone care?
Thought not...

BIG FIGHT OF THE FORTNIGHT

Yup, you read correctly
this fortnights competitors are


Leonard the shrimp
vs
George the manhole cover

Who do YOU think will win?
Write an e-mail to me marked "Vote for the fight" so that I can 
delete them immediately.
Remember when making your choice, the shrimp, though vicious in 
packs doesnt really have the brute strength to penetrate the thick 
metal of the manhole cover. But if course the manhole cover doesnt 
actually move much.

Send your comments to: Rik <Rich.h@btinternet.com> or visit 
http://www.btinternet.com/~weird.stuff1/Rik1.htm.

[Rik informs me that he will disappear from the scene for a while 
since he decided to join a religious monk group in Nepal to find 
himself and escape the tyranny and evilness of the 'Net - Ed.]
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(1) Everything depends.
(2) Nothing is always.
(3) Everything is sometimes. 
