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 odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo

    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  5 6

                        .WE ARE THE 5th INTERNATIONAL
                         .March 16th, 1999
                          .Editor: BMC
                           .Writers:
                            .Gnarly Wayne
                             .BMC


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                                                                        ";P'
                        Featured in this installment:                    `$
                                                                          $
                             The Sun Of Man- BMC                          $
                       Bzarhands Get Hurt- Gnarly Wayne                  ;P
                              Acro Classics- BMC                         d'
                                                                        ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

                               EDITOR'S NOTE

         Well, sometimes we philosophize and speak on whether this religion
or that is the right one.  Politics.  What system makes the people happy?
Which brings a greater crop, or what produces more soldiers?  It's all a
strategy played by all of these self-imposed rulers that we have.  There
were problems in feudal times, or in other countries, say they, but our
problems are no big deal anyomre becase we're trifling.  In this issue of
The Comintern we are going to strike down the cool bread indels who would
otherwise crush us for the words we speak.


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                                                                        ";P'
                                THE SUN OF MAN                           d'
                                    by BMC                              ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;
                                                             
        For years the media has been unjustly down on the sun, for feeble
reasons such as, "It's too hot,", "too bright," or the equally feeble, "It's
radioactive."  Well, I'm damn sick of all of all of this anti-sun propaganda,
especially ever since I decided that I am going to move there.

        "Oh, but BMC, that would be fatal," they whine.  Yeah right!  I'm
sure the REAL reason is because they are afraid that I would hold a monoply
of power, and my fire children will grow to despise and wage war on the sun
hating Earth fools.  Then the earth will be scorched and humankind will
finally learn the true meaning of suffering.

        Now there are some other skeptics who suggest that I should bring
things like sunblock, ice, or a hat, but these will all be unnecessary if my
calculations are correct.  I am aware of this heat and radiation, but all I
will need to bring along is a radiation suit for when it gets radioactive,
and a Hawaiian suit complete with Bermuda shorts for when it gets hot.  Now
as long as it dosen't get hot and radioactive at the same time, I'll be A-OK.

        After living on the sun for about 12 years I will have gotten used
to the brightness and the fact that the sun is made out of gasses and not
any form of land.  I will have accepted the fact that I can not build a house
or grow any food but sunflowers, and the inhabitants of the sun will have
accepted me as one of their own.

        Eventually at that point I will have to take a sun wife, and perhaps
go about making love to her fiery body.  That may take some getting used to
but I look forward to the challenge.

        Alas, upon further study of sun culture it has been discovered that
females there are quite fickle and youthful.  People say they will never
accept my rather palid and cold flesh as their own, and as such I will fail
miserably.  I have decided that I don't care because all the women on this
planet are terrible, so it won't matter anyways.

        After I find a wife and have some fire children, I can go about
performing my evil plan.  I will begin building solar planks from asbestos
purchases from the Venusian Monstars.  These planks slowly but surely will
encompass the sun and as such stop all the suns light from escaping to
unworthy planets such as earth.  I will be able to harness 100% of the suns
energy and then sell it for a tidy fee to earthlings, sun, and MoOn folk
alike.


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                                                                        ";P'
                             BZARHANDS GETS HURT                         d'
                               by Gnarly Wayne                          ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

        Bzarhands had completed another day at the deli, cutting yummy slices
of meat for the Zombies4Life organization.  After he was done, he packed up
his knives and started on his way home.  He got to a street corner and looked
both ways across the street. Then he started across.  A mini-van came
screaming down the street at bzarhands but missed him by mere feet.

        He conintued on his way home. He decided to take a walk down the
alley as a shortcut.  "Good idea!", he thought.

        It was dark and scary in the alley, but bzarhands was brave.  He had
fending off ferocious wolves before and he was afraid of no alley.  So he
sauntered along the alley when a large burly man came out of the shadows.

        "Gimme that bag of knives", he said with a gleam in his eye.

        "No.", said bzarhands.

        "OK", said the man and left.

        Bzarhands exited the alley and walked up the steps to his mansion.
He jiggled the keys in the door but they didn't work.  A fire child inside
laughed and said "Ha Ha"

        "Grrr..", thought Bzarhands and then said "Grrrr...".

        He used one of the mysterious powers of bzarhands to pick the lock
and open into his house.  The child ran away.

        "Damn skippy." said bzarhands.  Bzarhands went up to his room and
stashed his bag of knives.  He took off all his clothes and put his pyjamas
on.

        "Yawn!", yawned bzarhands.  As he was getting into bed, he stubbed
his toe on a frankfurter.  "I'm hurt!", he bellowed and then fell asleep.

        THE END

         
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                                                                        ";P'
                                ACRO CLASSICS                            d'
                                   by BMC                               ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;
                                                                    
        Snoop not sat cut.  I I'am I be fat.  Have rodents cried?  Animals
eat cool bread.  Venom can touch every man's penis, right?  Labe brat
animals cool indels.  All brats all brats beat the.  Play round spin spin
title elle.

                                                   
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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 Neo-Comintern                            #56-03/16/99

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