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             t h e  l o v e   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  7 6

                        .WE ARE THE LOVE  
                         .September 17th, 1999  
                          .Editor: BMC
                           .Writers:
                            .BMC
                             .Komrade B
                              .Garnly Wayne


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                                                                        ";P'
                        Featured in this installment:                    `$
                                                                          $
              Hey Young World, The World is Yours- Komrade B and BMC      $
                          The Moose and I- Gnarly Wayne                  ;P
                          Voyage From Atlantis c.iv- BMC                 d'
                                                                        ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

                               EDITOR'S NOTE

        Well it looks like the time has finally come where our busoms have
so swelled with love that we just can't hold it back anymore.  From now on
there will be no more mention of "The Comintern," only "The Love."  It will
be all the more beautiful, and like I said before, it'll be like '91 till
the last time you see us.  Now to the issue description:

        Hey young world.  This is a little collection of love..erh, um...
limericks that we made up over the last year.  The first one was written
during a heavy drinking session in March.  The second limerick, "The Moose
and I," is a real tear jerker, so don't read it if you are anywhere close to
suicide.  You would end up killing yourself, and hopefully that is not what
The Love is all about.  The third story is a continuation of the "Voyage
From Atlantis" series, and hopefully that will satisfy you old school
Cominter.... erh, Love fans...

        L'amour!


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                                                                        ";P'
                     HEY YOUNG WORLD, THE WORLD IS YOURS                 d'
                            by Komrade B and BMC                        ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

        For you dedicated children out there. The Neo-Comintern would like
to dedicate this article to you the children. The following tales will tell
you of the rights and wrongs of the writers and how you can avoid our wrongs
to be become the beautiful torch that shall brighten humanities future.

        It has been rumored that I have received oral sex from a young MoOn
MonsTareSs in a movie theatre.  The rumour even progressed to include my
ejaculating into some popcorn which I fed to some kids.  Was that a true
story?  Well I choose not to get into the particulars, but let me tell all of
you young people that sex outside of the confines of marriage is wrong.  In
fact, it is a stern belief of mine that any form of sexual intercourse is a
sin.  In fact even within the confines of marriage, and even for the sole
purposes of procreation, sexual intercourse is a sin and will be punished by
God with a long stay in the eternally damnable Hades.  However, Komrade B
has a bit more liberal of a view of sexuality, so I will let him get into the
particulars of intercourse for those of you who can't remain virgins until
death like I plan to do.

        For one intercourse is not to be enjoyed. There will be occaisions
when your boyfriend will pressure you for certain favors. He won't come right
out and say what he wants, but come on you a young intelligent girl of the
90's and you know what he wants. Just stray him away, read this article and
realize you love yourself too much. Remember you were going to travel the
world and be the greatest soccer player that ever lived, so right now you
don't have time for boys. You only have time for you.

        Pleasuring yourself can be a beautiful experience, but is is wrong
and is punishable by a life sentence in hell by Lord Darkenbeast himself.
However, this experience can be so wonderful that it may actually be worth
that infinite, painful experience.  It is only rivaled by anal intercourse
with another male, but that is far worse of a sin, so we all know which one
is the wiser choice.  Once you have administered exotic ritual on yourself,
you might want to reach for your supply of Kleenex which should always be
within arms reach, and wipe off your stomach and perhaps even your face.
Then invite a friend over to your house and write an article while he puts
his hands in his pants.

        Now you know about the do nots of sex it. Now it is time to prepare
yourself for the demons of alcohol. The Neo-Comintern is littered with
alcholics and we can't help but wonder if there was a zine in our youth to
guide us to the pure way. Sure it is cool to drink lots and throw up. Or get
incredibly drunk and wreck patio furniture, call your ex-girlfriend a dirty
slut, and start a fight with some guy you came to the bar with. Then wander
the streets and end up not knowing how you got home and wake in a pool of
blood filled vomit. Sounds fun right? Wrong!! It was a horrible expirience
and I hope not to repeat it. So when your friends take you to that party and
offer you a drink politefully decline. It will keep you sharper when that
20 year-old guy tries to fuck you bare.

        Speaking about drinking, let's talk about smoking the herb.  Blowing
the reeds.  It's an experience that most young people get into, and that is
not necessarily a bad thing to experiment with, btu you know that it's a sin.
I suppose that this type of sin has a broad range, becuase you can be an
innocent young man with a Sucrets pipe and an elephant-head-bong, and you
could still probably go to heaven.  BUT, if you get arrested on charges of
posession and traffiking, then you will probably get kicked out of your house
and you and your black cat will have to look for a new place to call home.

        Speaking of violence. Its not a good idea. Its better to love then
the fight. At the Comintern we fight all the time. In fact after the previous
paragraph we had a brawl and BMC tore his pocket and is all mad, and upstairs
changing. See my children violence does not pay and it doesn't resolve
anything now instead of telling me its alright and loving me he will probably
beat me with a stick instead and then nobody is happy. Remember it takes a
big heart to forgive.


        Whatever is the most important to you is what you should pursue.
Even if you fail horribly (as we have failed to send a positive message to
the youth) you have tried your best and the youth has benefitted from the
very real message of "keep it real."

        Hey young world it is all yours.  The gin, the women, and the dreams.
I dedicate this to Karli.  We only hope that we could reach to her in a more
profound way than could be possible with this mediocre article.  It's the gg
hypehn once again.


        This is dedis\cated to the young world.  Always make the best out of
what you have been given and never cheat youslf out of the virtues that fate
has given you.  We love you, Karli, so don't ever give your souil to the
harsh stagnant world.

        Shotz goes out to the gangsta sound. Karli you are a bright star and
have burnt so very bright for so very long. Unlike the bright sun that burns
out fast and furious. You are a tender flower that will bloom year after year
until you die, ehich will be a long time from now.


        in closing, karli, we would like to say that we love you and we 
would beat some guy'smotherfuckin ass if he ever laid a hand on you.  
You are solid gold. Remember your goals, and know that we believe in you.
With patience and effort we know you will achieve all your goals, and when
you have achieved success, we will be there to eat your food and sleep in
your bathtub. *love* PEACE!

        Ahh, to forgive is a virtue,

                                                     
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                                                                        ";P'
                               THE MOOSE AND I                           d'
                               by Gnarly Wayne                          ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

        I came home late one night from my job as a city planner to find 
Moose had been sleeping my bed. I was indifferent to this blatant lack 
of regard for human life, MY life. I looked at Moose, who, in turn, 
gazed back at me with his hollow, yet full of intelligence, eyes. I 
was captivated as I thought of what Moose must be thinking with his
multi-faceted mind. 

        As he blinked, my soul was torn in two. I cried out in terror as my
being shattered into a million fragments. I was thrown clear into the
ethereal plane. Through the misty whisps of reality, a giant Moose head
appeared out of nothingness and continued to stare into me. I closed my eyes
and began to breathe deeply and heavily. My being began to float up and away
from the Moose head, who continued to stare at me with sad eyes. For all of
Moose's powers, he could not vanquish my sorrow and dispair. A single tear
fell from his unblinking eye and quickly created an ocean. I was suddenly
swept up in the salty sea and began thrashing about in vain. Before I had
begun to tire, I was washed up onto the beach. I coughed up water and
struggled to get up and away from the incoming waves. Every time I neared the
treeline, a wave crashed upon me and dragged me back out to the shore. I
looked into the water and saw my own reflection. Behind my face in the
reflection was Moose, forever accusing me of sins with his deep, whiteless
eyes. I began to speak in an effort to redeem myself, but no words could come
out. Moose hung his head in shame. I looked up towards the sky and screamed
for as long as I could. The waves continued to rise as I screamed, eventually
reaching my mouth and filling it with the saltly sea brine.

        Blackness quickly followed. I regained conciousness within my
bedroom, still staring at Moose laying in my bed. As he got up, he looked at
me and nodded his head ever so slowly. I watched as he dressed, packed his
bags, and left out the door. Not a sound was uttered between us. As the door
shut behind him, I managed to utter a small "Thank you". I never saw him
again but in my dreams.


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                                                                        ";P'
                      VOYAGE FROM ATLANTIS (chapter iv)                  d'
                                   by BMC                               ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

         When I awoke on the museum floor, still dizzy from the loss of
blood, I was frightened to see that Komrade B was performing impromptu
sugery on me.  Need I explain the reason I have no faith in Komrade B's
surgical skills?  Let'm just say that the last time The Komrade performed
surgery on me I had to stay in bed for seven weeks.  I had only cut my
finger, but he insisted on amputating my left arm.  Of course, the bloody
stump became infected when he didn't sew it up or even disinfect it, so I
came very close to death.  I was lucky, though, and after I was well enough
to show signs of life the doctors of Atlantis sewed my arm back on (or maybe
it grew back.  I was delusional so it's hard to say for sure).  And that was
one of the more successful attempts Komrade B had made.

        Anyway, now we were in a room full of dead bodies, and we were a bit
confused as to why we had just slain innocents for no apparent reason.  Well
of course we could not say why, but it was rewarding nonetheless, and we were
now prepared to search out the evil King Proteus.

        We were so excited that we ignored the directives of our mission,
jumped into our sub-water boat, and followed our map toward the Hard To Find
City.  If we were sucessful in infiltrating the Gutang stronghold, we would
become educated in matters of fantasy warfare, and thus have a great tool in
hunting and slaying King Proteus.
                                              

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    ___________________________________________________
   |THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S |
   |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
   | BRING ON THE NIGHT                 (306) 373-4218 |
   | CLUB PARADISE                      (306) 978-2542 |
   | THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME           (306) 373-9778 |
   |___________________________________________________|
   |   Website at: http://members.home.com/comintern   |
   |           Email BMC at: thebmc@home.com           |
   |___________________________________________________|

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 Copyright 1999 by The Love                                     #76-09/17/99

All content is property of The Love.
You may redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the
content must not be altered or modified in any way.  Unauthorized use of any
part of this document is prohibited.  All rights reserved.  Made in Canada.
