Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine
Volume III, Issue 11, AD MCMXCVIII
Thursday, June 11th, 1998
ISSN 1482-0471
-------------------------------------------

I wasn't planning on responding to your letter as I thought I could no 
longer use my right as a reader, but seeing as I was still on the list 
last week (although I had most sincerely asked to be removed), I'll 
exercise my right.
 -- Suzanne Schumacher

-------------------------------------------

> simply send an empty message to leave@capnasty.org.

You wanna know what I think?  I think anyone who does not actually read 
this nice clear message at the bottom of their email should be shot 
many times.  And I mean that in the nicest way possible.
 -- Chuck Battams Jr.

-------------------------------------------

1. Another boring Editorial
2. Flopzilla, Godzilla
3. IMPROV's short and sweet
4. Fear
5. The Stench-

-------------------------------------------

This week's Golden Testicle award:

Club a Seal for World Peace

http://www.wsu.edu/~twl/seal/

-------------------------------------------

1. Editorial

WELCOME TO CoN III.11.  Besides being labeled as the "Most boring e-
zine" on the net from a former reader, we also received our very first 
web-award.  That’s right, instead of receiving further media coverage, 
finally some poor soul out there visited our page and deemed it worthy 
enough of an award.  You can see The Edsil Tarkingham Just Like Me 
award, with its lengthy comment, on our newly created awards page, 
here:

http://www.capnasty.org/awards.html 

Letters

John Rosati sends us his comments from our last issue, including some 
new techniques in how to get rid of a body:

> Some good articles this issue.  That ignorant slut who wanted to
> unsubscribe must work for the U.S. Postal service. She has some
> serious anger problems. She must beat her husband. Anyway,
> interesting article on how to get rid of a stiff.  You left out
> a way that leaves no mess -- Pigs. Yes, our curly tailed friends
> love to eat bodies and will leave no remains. There was a murder of
> a family of 4 in the town I grew up in out in California about 20
> years ago and it took them months to "find the bodies". All they
> found were a few bone chips. Keep up the good work.    JR

For those who don't have pigs, "IGNORE the HYPE" sent in the following 
idea:

> If you're going to kill someone you should try and ensure that it is
> a small person. This way you could easily dispose of the body by
> eating it over a period of a month or so (obviously keeping it
> in a freezer). Use the bones to make a tasty broth for soup
> or stew. Give the gooey parts to a dog (they love gooey things)
> and mulch up the rest of the left over chunks and go throw
> them on a local community garden. You've not only helping yourself,
> but you neighbours as well. And, best of all, you're cutting way
> down on your food bill... even cheaper than shopping at No Frills.
> Of course if you're a vegetarian this method won't work...

WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CoN? Apparently, beside a request to 
see more commentary on stupid people (does our readership have anyone 
in mind?), the most popular request is to have more sex.  We'll see 
what we can do.

Send in your comments, unsubscription requests (dream on), ideas and 
what you'd like to see in CoN in the near future, to con@canasty.org.

Have a great one, folks.

-------------------------------------------

2. Flopzilla, Godzilla

		          F L O P Z I L L A:
			don't believe the hype 

			*.5 out of ***** stars  
	              by: G. Summer M. Scarborough

======================================================================
WARNING:  If you've never seen "Godzilla" and intend to shell out your 
hard earned (or your parents') money to view it, don't read this.  
It'll just plain spoil it for you.


Actors: Hank Azaria, M. Pitillo, guy from "The Professional", Matthew
        "Ferris Bueller" Broderick, others
Major Ironies:  1) "Worm" researches and has his life spared by Zilla,
		then helps kill it; later, after its death, looks at it
		sadly and dejectedly. 2) the women in the movie are 
                clueless (Ms. Backbone... M. Pitillo), nagging 
		(Animal's wife), or intelligent but looking for a man
		(researching doctor) 3) at the end, one wishes Godzilla
		would have roasted them all to bits  

Acting:  The guy from the Professional and Azaria were the most 
believable
Effects: **.5 of *****

Godzilla appears as a cross between an overgrown Tyrannosaurus Rex and 
those plastic dinosaur 10 cent figurines... not to mention the fact 
that the old Zilla shows seem more credible. No wonder you never get to 
see Godzilla in the movie previews. At first glance at the lizard, 
refunds would be obtained.

Plot:    * of *****
Writing: * of *****
Soundtrack: **.5 of *****
Synopsis: Wait for the Video [don't even pay $3... pay $1.50)

It all started as a regular date with my boyfriend -- looking forward
to a relaxing movie.  We shelled out the cash (an inordinate amount for
a movie), got a blue raspberry slush and sat down in the darkened 
theatre. Little did I know that I would have had a better time watching 
a -gag- Seinfart marathon.

For those of you who don't know, Godzilla is the screen version of the 
popular Japanese films about a large reptilian creature which usually 
smashes everything and gets killed in the end.

That said, you have some sort of framework about the film.  

It starts with this worm specialist researching toxic worms at 
Chernobyl and called in to investigate large lizard footprints.

During all this, boats are pulled undersea (a' la "Jaws"), and we see 
into the life of the Worm Guy's struggling, backboneless, non-reading 
lines-well former college sweetheart.  Her goal is to be a TV 
newscaster.  Her friend, nicknamed Animal, is a constant sidekick 
(besides his wife) and is played by Hank Azaria, of Simpsons voices 
fame.

So, as any child can figure it, the 2 paths will cross, and disaster 
must* automatically happen. The reporter decides to get in touch with 
Ol' Wormie, steals a top secret videotape (which just happens to be 
lying on a table inside a tent with the hand-written words "TOP SECRET" 
on it) and wants to put it on the air at the television station where 
she works.

Meanwhile, Mr. Worm, after using over the counter pregnancy tests, 
determines that Godzilla is pregnant (he reproduces asexually). To his 
dismay, the top secret video is aired, and the concept of Godzilla's 
pregnancy is put on the air.

Consequentially, Wormie gets fired, and is thus kidnapped by France's 
version of the CIA or such. 

In between all this rip-roaring excitement (yawn), Godzilla has made 
his appearance, evaded high speed U.S. helicopters in downtown New York 
and charged back out to sea.  

The chase-the-lizard sequences happen a lot, until finally the CIA/FBI 
trap the lizard and seemingly massacre it.  They think it's dead, are 
all happy-happy-joy-joy, while Wormie (Matthew Broderick) and the head 
French leader (played by the really good actor who was in "The 
Professional) find the lizard eggs.  Wouldn't you know it, Godzilla 
layed about 200 unhatched & incubating eggs.

Insert the fleeing-from-the-baby-lizards scenes here, a la Jurassic 
Park. 

Finally, the "nest" is blown up, Godzilla (he's not dead really) is 
seen looming over Madison Square Garden, nudging his dead baby 'zillas.
 
Finally, he's pissed as all hell and goes after the taxi full of the 
backboneless blond, Matthew Broderick, the French leader and the 
cameraman, Animal.  After driving across the bridge, Godzilla gets 
tangled in the wires, and as he is entangled the CIA/FBI/police open 
fire on the large animal.

As Godzilla's heartbeat fades (courtesy of drums), Mr. Worm walks up to 
him, staring at him, looking as though he feels sorry for it.  Finally, 
the heartbeat stops and Worm looks sad and dejected....but not for 
long, as Backboneless wants to get back with him.

It ended as crappily as it began.

		The bottom line is to WAIT FOR THE VIDEO.   

-------------------
* as approved by the universal American scripts... the same 
scriptwriters who always have women tripping on a twig in a big chase 
sequence.

G. Summer M. Scarbough is currently waiting for funding to go see 
Bulworth. Her site is http://www.angelfire.com/mi/TallWmn 

---

Godzilla
By Mr. Cranky

Rated: 4 bombs

Director Roland Emmerich and producer Dean Devlin were obviously raised 
by birds. As I imagine the hordes and hordes of stupid people going to 
see this film I can only visualize one thing: As the movie starts, the 
hordes tilt back their empty heads, open their mouths wide, and wait 
for Emmerich and Devlin to come round and regurgitate popcorn and 
jujubees into their mouths, because they're little more than helpless, 
brainless, baby birds. 

There isn't an original or creative moment in this entire film. 
Godzilla is but an inflated "Jurassic Park" T-Rex running around New 
York City. When Godzilla jumps in the water and is chased around by a 
submarine, Emmerich and Devlin are quick to rip off "The Hunt for Red 
October." When Dr. Niko Tatopoulos (Matthew Broderick), Philippe Roache 
(Jean Reno), Animal (Hank Azaria) and Audrey (Maria Pitillo) discover 
Godzilla's lair in Madison Square Garden, the film wastes no time in 
ripping off "Alien." After two hours of this, the only rip off I was 
waiting to see was Emmerich's or Devlin's head.

The story is paper-thin, the dialogue could have been scripted by an 
ESL student, and the character development makes one pine for the 
complexity of an Emilio Estevez tour de force. Who the hell makes 
Matthew Broderick the lead of an action film anyway? Make pubic hair a 
leading-man requirement and these kinds of mistakes can be avoided.

How bad is this movie? Here's Emmerich and Devlin's idea of humor: The 
mayor's (Michael Lerner) name is Ebert. His assistant's name is Gene. 
Ebert eats a lot and calls Gene names. Jesus, Emmerich and Devlin 
should have just cut straight to the gratuitous scene of themselves 
sucking Siskel's and Ebert's chubbies. Hell, why not just have Ebert 
whip out his fifty-foot long penis and beat Godzilla to death with it? 
If you're going to suck up for positive reviews, you might as well go 
all the way.

--
Permission to publish this review was granted by Mr. Cranky himself.
Visit Mr. Cranky rates the movies at http://www.mrcranky.com

-------------------------------------------

3. IMPROV's short and sweet

Archeology?  Why is there archeology?  I mean, really, what's the 
point?  I read in the paper the other day that some guy in Mexico or 
something may have discovered some remains that may prove that some 
sort of dinosaurs hunted in packs.  Big deal.  How does this affect me 
right here, right now?  I know we learn from our mistakes by studying 
history, but lets be serious here, what is there to learn from the fact 
that T Rex's shared their food.

How does that relate to me now?  If we study WWII, then sure we might 
learn to not allow a guy like Adolf Hitler to rise into power.  Is 
there any chance of me being eaten by a raptor on my way home to 
work... not likely, except maybe Oliver Miller (basketball fans are 
killing themselves over that one, trust me).  Finding this out does not 
teach me any new defensive techniques or anything.  Or maybe it does, 
BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER!! 

'Cause I can't use it... unless my friendly neighborhood crooks decide 
to study this guys work and shape their attack after that of a 
triceratops.  And another thing... this is all theory.  This guy has no 
clue if he's right or wrong.  It's all hypothetical.  "Of course it 
is," you're saying.  But who is paying for this...for these theories?  
Not my tax dollars I hope.  You know who should pay?  Spielburg. That's 
right Spielburg.  Cause he's the only one who is going to benefit.  
When it comes time to make Jurrasic Park 3: The Money Maker he'll have 
that realism down.  Not that we'd know the difference.  But that guy in 
Mexico will... at least he has a theory that he will. 


Its amazing how one word (or lack there of) in a sentence can change 
the Total connotation of said sentence.  i.e. "I have little time to do 
that."  OR "I have a little time to do that."  Bit of a difference.  
The other day I encountered someone who simply put a phrase in to the 
wrong tense and I was scared. My girlfriend and I were pulling up to a 
parking attendants booth after seeing a movie when the gentleman inside 
yelled, "WHAT HAPPENED!!??"  But in a really friendly way.

I replied, "Pardon?"  Once again, "WHAT HAPPENED!!??"  Confused I lean 
my Head outside of the car, just in case I'm mishearing him.  "WHAT 
HAPPENED!!?? HOW WAS THE MOVIE?"  Now I get it.  He means, "What's 
happening?"  I thought this guy saw blood on my car or something and 
witnessed my hit and run... oops... you might want to ignore that.  

It is amazing though, how one word in a greeting can dictate an entire 
conversation.

What happened? vs. What's happening?
Who you doing?  vs.  How You doing?
Of course there's "Spare some change?"  (For Toronto residents only)
Yo wuss up?  vs. ... actually if someone greets you that way, just keep 
walking.


I think the moment you are no longer a teenager is when you look at an 
article of clothing with a corp. logo on it and think that it's 
“sharp”.  You know what I mean, you get a jacket or a hat from work and 
it says something like "York Dry Cleaners" on it.  It's a perfectly 
good jacket, but over the left breast there's a logo on it.  When you 
have the mentality of a teen you think to yourself, "There is NO WAY 
I'm going to wear that piece of crap, there's a stupid logo on it."  
(Meanwhile you're standing there in your Nike cap, Starter jacket and 
Adidas tear-aways.)  But the point is that when you can over look the 
crest or logo or whatever, you are truly no longer a teen.  When you 
look at a hat from Peel Hardware Supplies and think, "Hey, now THAT'S a 
nice hat!"  You've grown up... just a tad.

Now is this a good thing....?

-------------------------------------------

4. Fear
   by Joe Tomorrow (Damned)

Yeah, I've been there. And back. In time I'll probably, no, certainly, 
be back there. No matter what I do to try and thwart the future I'll be 
back there. That's the only thing that stops me from taking the easy 
way out -- knowing what awaits. Nope, I plan on living a long, long 
life, but it's hard sometimes…most times. Seeing what I've seen and 
knowing what I now know, I can't help but feeling disdain towards the 
average person going about their mundane life -- worrying about shopping 
or laundry…. Christ, if they've been where I've been they wouldn't be 
concerned with such little shit... Because it really doesn't matter, 
when you've been where I've been. But that disdain eventually subsides 
and I can continue on in a blind sort of non-tactile existence.

I have a movie like collection of scars of the sights I've seen seared 
into my brain that replays nightly when I lay down to sleep. The only 
way I can knock it back far enough to allow some rest is through the 
combined use of vodka and pills with codeine. You see, sleep is 
something that is non existent there. I never once saw anyone or thing 
sleeping there. I'll never forget how badly I wanted to sleep, if even 
for just five minutes, but I couldn't close my eyes, even if I wanted 
to because that's when the real horrors began. That's where they exist 
now. There is an unnatural fear of closing one's eyes amongst those who 
have been there.

It's understandable why the world's major religions use fear as a 
motivator -- it works. It's amazing how long one can go without sleep 
when one is afraid of the sights that await. It's amazing how adaptable 
one can be just trying to stay alive. Take me for example, now that 
I've found my way back I plan on living, not a wild, every moment could 
be last type of lifestyle, but rather a quiet unassuming one that will, 
like I said earlier, allow me a long, long time here because more than 
life itself, I don't want to go back. But I know one day I will. It's 
that knowledge that will keep me alive though, keep me alive using fear 
as my motivator.

-------------------------------------------

5.  The Stench-

The Stench-
REVSCRJ: 4/98

 Your eyes focus inward
      to a point in front of your nose
                         as if to see it source there.
Your body recognizes it instinctually,
knows the face before the idea is brushed aside by logic.
                Its a cloy that hangs in the air
                        faint with the smells of old dry flowers,
        like decades of dust upon trillions of dessicated mites,
                like fever sweat mixed with urine,
                cotton candy in the distance
                                infection in the fore-
                a sweetness that bypasses the face
                        and goes directly to the back of the head
                where it hardens there with a chemical trace.


If you've been in a convalecent home you know it.


It puts a warmth in your head
that's a mockery of real heat,
        a grim toothy smile at atrocity wide
                                and pleasured-
        so cordial in its degenerative hiddeousness
                                that bile turns over in the guts
                                     hoping to avoid the trace elements
                                that slip down the wrong pipe
                 and meet the meat therein.

If you've ever loved someone with a wasting disease you know it.


Its a lazy monster in a musty room
sidles in casually toward its victim,
                and it side glances an olfactory leer your direction
                        as if to say
"Misery LOVES company..." or closer:

                                                                
"Someday..."


Its an old man with no teeth,
                blackened eye-holes,
        skin that sags like old newsprint
and dry leather- damp but unsweating.
                                                                A wave
                should make it crumple into a baggy heap of thread,
                        wispy hairs and yellow stained gauze.
                                                              The wind
could rend it,

but doesn't.



                                        Terribly fragile,

                                                    grotesquely feeble,

                                entirely unstoppable.
Slow.  Very, very, slow.

When you smelled the formaldahyde stew of fetal biology unborns
 it smiled your way,
 do you remember?

                                It does.


 Its the distended,
 malnourished belly
 that belches poison into the moth-balled stale air
 of an old woman's museum home.

 Its the wheezing laugh of a mouth
 riddled with gum rot- only not so vital,
                                                        older, no rage,
                                        no disgust but fear...
fear seeps out of its pores like burnt chocolate and turned milk.
It is the pursed blue lips at the ear of a deathbed
                         wafting neglect into small ghastly clouds
and if you've ever soon after visited the house of a dead realitive-
                                                                       
an
old one
                                                    who had time to see
it comming,
                        time to feel it watch through the windows,
to know it sits beside the bed
when dark and silence rule-
                you feel its presence and
                                how it likes to linger for awhile....
                to savor the scene of its unwholesome workings,
                as if reluctant to abandon its torture chamber.


                                                "Thought y'd come..."
                                  it touches you, makes a tiny 'x'
                                        in the back of your sinus'

just beneath the brain at the seat of the soul



and remembers.



<3
REVSCRJ 4/98

-------------------------------------------

CoN would not be possible without the great help of Scriba Org.

the no frills posse.. all dressed in red.. they hunt you at night ... 
push you out of your bed... they sing evil songs.. they are all bad... 
you'll be so sorry .. you touched the bread... the no frills posse.. 
all dressed in red...

Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine    "media you can abuse"
In memory of Father Ross "Padre" Legere
Published every second Monday (or when we get around it)
Disclaimer: unintentionally offensive
Comments, queries and submissions are welcome

http://www.capnasty.org  ISSN 1482-0471

A bi-weekly electronic journal. Subscriptions available at no cost 
electronically.


Available on Usenet newsgroups alt.zines and alt.ezines. CoN sends this 
mailing exclusively to those poor souls who chose to subscribe to the 
Capital of Nasty mailing list.

Spread the word! If you have friends who would like to receive CoN, ask 
them to send email to join@capnasty.org. If you like to unsubscribe 
because such email aggravates your intolerance for Godzilla, simply 
send an empty message to leave@capnasty.org.


Brought to you by C.C.C.P. (Collective Communist Computing Proletariat)
Leandro Asnaghi-Nicastro          Colin Barrett
<leandro@capnasty.org>            <tyrannis@capnasty.org>


ZimID 708EC8D1  1994/09/14 EC B0 97 59 1D FE 7C 32  7E 04 2C 66 47 41 FB 7D
