       ___________ __              _______                         
       \__    ___/|  |__   ____    \      \   ____  ____           
         |    |   |  |  \_/ __ \   /   |   \_/ __ \/  _ \   ______ 
         |    |   |   Y  \  ___/  /    |    \  ___(  <_> ) /_____/ 
         |____|   |___|  /\___  > \____|__  /\___  >____/
                       \/     \/          \/     \/
       _________                 __        __
       \_   ___ \  ____   _____ |__| _____/  |_  ___________  ____  
       /    \  \/ /  _ \ /     \|  |/    \   __\/ __ \_  __ \/    \ 
       \     \___(  <_> )  Y Y  \  |   |  \  | \  ___/|  | \/   |  \
        \______  /\____/|__|_|  /__|___|  /__|  \___  >__|  |___|  /
               \/             \/        \/          \/           \/ 
.......... ......... ........ ....... ...... ..... .... ... .. .  .   .    .
   .   .  . . .. ... .... ..... ...... ....... ........ ......... ..........

    t h e  n e o - c o m i n t e r n   e l e c t r o n i c  m a g z i n e
                 I n s t a l l m e n t    N u m b e r  1 4 2

                         We Are the New International
                         February 18th, 2001
                         Editor: BMC

                                             Writers:
                                        Junior Haagis
                                                  BMC
                                                     

  d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b.
 ;P                      Featured in this installment                      .b
 $                                                                          $
 $                         Men are Lying Dogs - BMC                         $
 $             The Secret Origin Files (Part Five) - Junior Haagis          $
 `q                                                                        p'
   `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'

                                EDITOR'S NOTE
                      (please do not read the following)

        A piece of paper just caught my eye on which my girlfriend scrawled
"Happy Violet Donkeys."  What does that mean?

        I don't know, but it scares the hell out of me.

        Me too.

        On that note, I'd just like to tell you that in order to take a break
from all of the special issues the N-Com has been releasing lately we're
releasing the memorable "Non-Special" issue 142.  There's a real non-special
feeling at the Neo-Comintern HQ today, and I just hope that the very
non-special feeling will rub off on you.

        Today's issue is dedicated to nothing!
        Today's issue is not a theme issue!
        Today's issue does not feature a short story!
        Today's issue is not an anniversary issue!
        Today's issue will not give you that old-time feeling!
        Today's issue is not in praise of our one-hunderd-and-fourty-second
        release!

        Today's issue is just what it is: two pieces of writing that will
make you happy and consume some of that free time that you are trying to
fill right now.

        That's my promise.


  d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b. 
 ;P                           MEN ARE LYING DOGS                           .b
 :          A translation from folio 56r of the Findern Manuscript          :
 :                  Original title unknown, Author unknown                  :
 `q                           Translation by BMC                           p'
   `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
 
        The Findern Manuscript is a late fifteenth-century household book
containing famous works of the day.  The untitled poem that I have labelled
"Men are Lying Dogs" (or "Men are Lying Fuckers") is one of the earliest
English poems considered to have been written by a woman.

        Coincidentally, The Neo-Comintern is a contemporary household zine
that contains famous works of the late-twentieth and early-twenty-first
centuries, and it is also one of the first e-zines to publish translated
poetry from the late fifteenth-century.

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


                             Men are Lying Dogs

        Despite what men say about love being painful for them, it's
actually not; they constrain(1) themselves, using their hearts to put on a
show and their mouths to complain about their dissatisfaction.  This is
indeed only invented and deceitful, so help me god!(2)

        They promise they will lead(3) for the rest of their lives, and they
offer gifts when they are in a new relationship,(4) but after they prey(5)
on you they will not give what they have promised - so beware for shame!(6)

        They're everywhere, looking for prey, and women are nothing but
game(7) to them.  I think you might find that there are men all over the
place who make promises like this.

        By god(8), it would be a pity(9) if a man became charmed without
grace!(10)

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

1 Constrain means to restrict or to urge (Oxford Canadian Dictionary).
  Although these words are antonymous, both convey a strong sense of
  falseness.

2 "So help me God" is a modernization of the original "So God me spede."
  These phrases have the double purpose of intensifying the preceding clause
  and also adding a tone of Judeo-Christian morality by invoking the name of
  God.

3 Here lead means to be in charge of (Oxford Canadian Dictionary).  In the
  Middle Ages, being in charge of (and responsible for) a female was
  considered to be part of a male's marital function.

4 The Findern Manuscript actually uses the word "newfangledness," which the
  OED defines as the state of being fond of new things or the state of being
  unduly ready to take up new fashions or ideas.  Here I have applied it to
  the relationship ("when the relationship is new"); however, it could also
  be a reference to the gifts offered by the suitor: they are new and/or
  modern.

5 To prey on means to make a victim of or to plunder (Oxford Canadian
  Dictionary).  Pray is a homonym for this word (and, importantly, it is the
  spelling "pray" that is used in this poem to mean "prey").  It is possible
  that the author employs this word in order to make another allusion to
  religion.

6 Be careful not to be disgraced.  "For shame!" may also be used as a
  reprimand toward one who does not show shame but ought to (Oxford Canadian
  Dictionary).

7 There is a play on the words prey and game.  In hunting terms, to prey
  means to hunt and kill for food, and game refers to a hunted animal
  (Oxford Canadian Dictionary).

8 This invocation of God's name is a mild oath used as an intensifier for
  the clause that follows (or, in the Findern Manuscript's original version,
  the clause that precedes).  It also suggests that this following statement
  may itself be representative of the beliefs of God.

9 A pity is a regret or mild annoyance (Oxford Canadian Dictionary).
  Noteworthy is that this word originates from the Latin pietas, meaning
  pious, which suggests piety instead of pity.

10 "To have grace" can either mean to act out of good will or to receive the
   favour of God (Oxford Canadian Dictionary).  Because of the repetition of
   religious allusion throughout the poem, it seems very likely that in this
   case, "to have grace" means to act out of good will in order to receive
   the favour of God.


  d""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""b. 
 ;P                   THE SECRET ORIGIN FILES (PART FIVE)                  .b
 `q                            by Junior Haagis                            p'
   `nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'

Tonite's Episode -

PROJECT TITAN

PART V - A FRIEND ON THE INSIDE
          aka - EPISODE TWELVE - THE TRIOXILINE GAMBIT - PROLOGUE

Silent in the greenhouse, I am witness to a new breed of life.  Seedlings 
that quickly bloom from beneath the Titian soil signal their sentiousness 
with a primordial scream, only to follow it with, "uh, sorry."

Planimal's race multiplies by a factor of 10 with each passing second.

"What will you do when this world becomes filled with your offspring.  What 
will happen to my clones?" (I said that part)

"I predict.." booms Planimal, "..within 7 years, my children will be the 
majoritive life-form inhabiting this world.  Underground facilities for 
cloning and nutritional preparation will have been constructed by then.  The
architecture built by your clones and all within will become our residence 
and property.  Concentration camps beneath the surface will house the Haagis
clan.  My forces will have grown so strong by then that your people will
helpless to resist."

"But right now, they're not? ...Interesting."

"Yes, I thought that laymenist explanation would hold your attentio- HEY! 
What did you mean by that after the dramatic pause where you said, 'But
right now they're not?'  That word you said, that four syllable deal ending
with 'ing'.  What was that all about?!!"

"Oh...nothing!"

"Ho-jeez," he says. "I better keep my eye on you."

Meanwhile, Capt. Dave was exploring his new surroundings.  With the acidic 
atmosphere searing through his lungs, he was beginning to feel peckish for a 
dairy treat.  With elixer canister underarm, he was catching the attention of 
every Haagis clone he encountered.

"Are you the thrall of the template?" they asked him.

"Who me?" he queried with his southern drall. "If I tell y'all freakazoids I 
am, wha's in it for me?"

"We will uphold you as a treasured member of our community and all your 
desires will be fulfilled." (that's what they said)

"... ..................................................................
.......................................................................
........................................................................Yes!"

"Sir?"

"Yeah, I am his little beeyoch!" he yelled triumphantly.  "Now someone get
me a Mister Misty."

"We have a trioxiline compound.  It is the beverage of upmost quality on our 
world.  Only the heirarchy of our society sample its effervescent attributes. 
Less than 7 litres exist.  You may have your fill."

"Yeah thet's good.  Fill'up a s'venitwo ouncer and toss in a bunch of them 
lil' Oreo bits in the'are!"

"Your wish is our bidding," they said in subserviance.

Standing on several bystanders, he proclaimed to the crowd, "YOU BEEF-JERKIES 
GON'FRO US'ALL A PARTY!!"

Meanwhile...

"Hello?.....Hello?.....Can you hear me?...You are..Junior Haagis..right?

Stretched out on the tablet in a waking sleep, I hear a voice.  It's not one
I've ever heard before.

"One of you plants talkin' to me?" I said.

"No! It's me!  I'm in your head, man!" It said.

"Oh, I've heard that before."

"No really.  You had a tapeworm.  That tapeworm became super-intelligent 
somehow.  Then, not being able to find an independent means of leaving your 
body, it crawled up into your cerebral cortex and is now interfaced with 
you."

"I guess.  And what's your part in all this?"

"D'UP!  D'YI!  D'OPE!  It's me!  I'M the tapeworm!  I'M the one talking to
you!  And I'm here to help.  But you've got to do exactly what I instruct
you to do.  As I said before, I'm super-intelligent."

"I thought the other guy was super-intelligent."

"LOOK, YOU FUCKING MORON...!"

"You got a name?"

"DEE-YUP!  DEE-YI!...Uh..Yes!  Yes I do.  I'm Tol...Tol Chilibeck."

"You and the tapeworm been friends long?"

".........."

FIN


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    ___________________________________________________         
   |THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S |
   |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
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   | THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME           (306) 373-9778 |
   |___________________________________________________|
   |   Website at: http://members.home.com/comintern   |
   |           Email BMC at: thebmc@home.com           |
   |___________________________________________________|

 .d&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&b.
 Copyright 2001 by The Neo-Comintern                           #142-02/18/01

All content is property of The Neo-Comintern.
You may redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the
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