                  qn,
       d&&&&&&&&P ;P                       d&b     d&&P
      ;P   d'  d' d'                        d&;     d'
          ;P     ;&,e&q,  .c&&q,           ;P`&;   ;P .c&&q,  ,c&&q,
          d'     dP~  `b ;P'  `&           d' `&;  d';P'  `& ;P'  `d
         ;P     ;P    ;P dB&&&&P          ;P   `&;;P dB&&&&P d     P d&&P
         d'     d'    d' &,   ,           d'    `&d' &,   ,  &, .,d'
       d&&P    &&&   &&& `&&&P'         d&&P     `P  `&&&P'  `&&&P
                                                  ,
    ,e&&&q,a                       ,nP'          d'
   ;P'   `d'                       "'          d&&&P
   d'     " ,c&&q,  q&,e&q,e&q,   q&P q&,e&q,  ;P'  ,c&&q,  q&,e&q q&,e&q,
  ;P       ;P'  `d  dP~ `B~  `b   dP  dP~  `b  d'  ;P'  `&  dP~ `P dP   `b
  d'     , d     P ;P   ;P   ;P  ;P  ;P    ;P ;P   dB&&&&P ;P     ;P    ;P
  &,  .,d' &, .,d' d'   d'   d'  d'  d'    d' d' , &,   ,  d'     d'    d'
  `Y&&&P'  `&&&P' &&b  ;P   d&P &&b &&b   d&P `&P' `&&&P' &&b    &&b   d&P

 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  6 2

                        .WE ARE THE 5th INTERNATIONAL
                         .May 6th, 1999
                          .Editor: BMC
                           .Writers:      
                            .Komrade B
                             .Gnarly Wayne
                              .BMC


 odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo
                                                                        ";P'
                        Featured in this installment:                    `$
                                                                          $
                        Monitorian Rights- Komrade B                      $
                   The Hubris Of The Humans- Gnarly Wayne                ;P
                  Learning By Example: The Barbarians- BMC               d'
                                                                        ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

             /---\   /--\       EDITOR'S NOTE
     /------\-\  |   \
     |        |  \___/
     |  ^   ^ |
    [| (0) (0)|]     Ahh, here beginneth the first of the BRE Trilogy.  For
     |    |   |      those who lack knowledge of the beauty which is BRE, I
     |   \ /  |    / will give a brief explaination, fo as we know, brevity
     |/------\|      is the soul of wit.  BRE is a BBS door game, and as such
     |-^^^^^^-|      it is the finest ever made.  It is a strategy game where
      --\  /--       you build a military empire and hope that you don't get
         --          wiped out by one of the hoardes of faceless pirates.
                     There are nine pirate groups, each as evil and faceless
as the next, and one night (while drunk) Komrade B suggested that we should
do a series of articles giving personatities to these monolithic ghouls.  For
those who have played the game, consider this a free add-on.  For those who
have never partaken in the most wonderful game in the world, make sure to do
so, or you will be bound and beaten by some of the most fierce, evil, and
well-writ communists on the face of Terra Firma.  PeAcE!
                       
                                                  
 odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo
                                                                        ";P'
                              MONITORIAN RIGHTS                          d'
                                 by Komrade B                           ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

	Past the kelp farms of Zombies4life, beyond the dreaded lands of the
dead, and nestled next to the dreaded federation of Fish lies an empire
built on rape and pillage.  These Pirates of the night are known only as the
Monitorians and it is from these annals that their story is finally told....

        Back in 74 the realms were peaceful and the people were content.  I
was adopted by a family in the Kommradery and was the 4th oldest in a family
of one hundred and seventy four.  Our parents were often busy producing
siblings to meet the Komrades demand for a huge population.  I grew up in the
costal regions along the great pithicus, and it was there that I knew peace
and harmony.  I was playing with shells on the beach staring at the sea
longingly.  I felt its foamy waters calling to me.  I felt as if that was
where I was meant to be and some force deep in the ocean was beckoning me.
My thoughts of such things was detered by a glint in the horizon.  A large
fleet was headed towards my village a few miles up the coastline.  I did not
realize the significance of that fleet until the first shots were fired and
my life changed forever.

        The entire village was destroyed.  Millions of bodies littered the
coastline and in the middle of the ruins I saw a great flag, a burning box
on a field of gold.  The flag of the horrid Monitorians.  Our little coast
line had become territory of the pirates...

	Such a small incident amongst the great barony was of little concern
of the lords in the capital of Komradery at the 100% complete headquarters.
Luckily the barony sympathized with the survivors who managed to flee, and I
was adopted.  Food was plentiful, even for such a large family.  For a tax
was only 18/100 of a copper, which dad could easily afford, and the
government gave much food when the valleys of the river overflowed and gave
rich nutrients for bountiful crops.

        Life was good, but nightmares persisted as I dreamed of the dread
Monitorian pirates coming for my flesh.  My mother told me that the
Monitorians ate babies and sodomized little boys such as myself, and even
though I did not know what that meant I knew from the tone of her voice that
it could not be a good thing.  So I never went to school as it stood.  I
spent most of my time hiding in my closet and sleeping under my bed.  It was
easy to skip because my parents were off to work at the industry in which
they built tanks, and my teacher was much too occupied with the class of
eight million.

        In a few years I could not take it, and fled from home to join the
army.  I was made a trooper and trained at the factories in the industrial
regions.  I was placed in the standing army and awaited my chance to serve
for the glory.

        My first action was to be a tube jump.  The barons wanted us to join
the other baronies in a jump to another board and we were to kill all that we
saw.  Instead, a last minute command took us to the frontier and my old
homeland on the coast.  The Monitorian were to be hit, and hit hard.  Rumours
at military intelligence had revealed a large concentration of turrets which
they wanted to capture for a defensive line on the coastline in case of an
attack while the bulk of the army was away on an invasion.

        We hit hard and fast.  I killed one of the pale Monitorians with my
boot knife and bit in to his stringy flesh.  Monitorian flesh was said to
give knowledge to the consumer, and also to be an Aphrodisiac.  It was good,
and at least one of the rumors was true about that flesh.... Something I
would have to take care of immediately.

	That night while we slept in the newly captured regions on that
lonely coastline.  I walked to where my village was.  Nothing remained of
those fond days.  The pirates had never rebuilt the land for settlement, and
it became nothing more then a arms stockade because of its natural deep water
port.

        It was then that I found a boat hidden in a cairn which our scouts
could not see from our base.  Monitorians were loading crates upon the boat
as fast as they could.  It appeared that they were fearing attack, but could
not abandon the cargo that they so quickly loaded upon the boat.

	The boldest move of my life came as I jumped aboard the ship and
killed what I thought was the captain.  Turns out later that it wasn't the
captain, nevertheless the captain was impressed with my savagery and I became
a member of the crew.

	For years I sailed on the waters and discovered that yes the sea was
my home, but I could not help the tug of the sea for me to be beneath it.
Many of the crew felt the same way, but I could not tell if it was because I
stared at the sea so much, or if it was the gills behind my ears.  Alas, I
never found out....

        Turns out the Monitorians are a sea nation.  They are protected by
the Federation of Fish and funded by the king.  Commercial pirates for the
crown, but a nation all unto their own.  There are no women amongst the
pirates, and all the tales of rape, murder, and sodomy are true.  I cannot
condone their behaviour, but it is a group I have thrown in my fortunes with.

        Until I take the plunge into the choppy ocean blue, a Monitorian I
shall be and a Monitorian I shall die......

The End.


 odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo
                                                                        ";P'
                          THE HUBRIS OF THE HUMANS                       d'
                               by Gnarly Wayne                          ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

        The Human pirate clan is at the top of the list in BRE, yet they are
not the most powerful, most intelligent, or even most good-looking clan.
This is because they are not humans at all, this is simply the name of their
clan.  No, the humans are actually giant robots with metal skin, metallic
voices, and laser guns in their fingers.  However, being a robot does not
give them an advantage over everyone, for, dispite what you may think about
robots, these robots are the 1940's-type-depicted robots made out of old
audio/visual equipment and vacuum tubes.  At the best of the times when
making a raid, the generate a lot of noise and tend to fall apart if they
move too much.  To compensate for this, and to try to strike fear into the
BRE barons, they named their clan the Humans. Unfortunetly, it is now common
knowledge that these giant, clanking, monstrocities are not humans at all.
And the pictures of human faces cut out of magazines and pasted on didn't
fool anybody for a minute.  So how do they succeed, you ask?  Luckily for
them, whenever one of their members break down it causes a huge explosion
which can take out the strongest of "carrier-defense" walls or even do
major damage against the awesome "populace-defense" wall.  A single attack
run usually looks like this:

- a bunch clank towards their target.
- they hit a barrier or some other obstacle and a conflict ensues.
- one of the Humans blows up and wipes out the barrier and 80% of their
  forces.
- they loot and pillage. (usually another one blows up, minimalizing their
  profit).

        Even though most of what they are trying to take gets destroyed, the
Humans also use the debris to create more of themselves.  This makes them a
very dangerous pirate clan to deal with.  If they ever build a Human with a
386 processor or higher, the Human may organize the pirate clan and actually
plan out raids and such.  This new super-Human may even realize that the
Humans could easily overrun all the barons with just the sheer mass of
numbers they could attain if ever they were to mass-produce themselves.
For now, the barons of BRE are safe, and probably will be for a long time,
as any such processor is bound to be destroyed if it ever fell into the hands
of the Humans.


 odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo
                                                                        ";P'
                     LEARNING BY EXAMPLE: THE BARBARIANS                 d'
                                    by BMC                              ;P
                                                                        d'.
 .,;::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;,"*,;

        The clan of the barbarians was founded back before my empire was a
dream, and at one time they could have wiped us out with a motion of their
hand.  Well maybe I just lied about its founding and strength, but they were
still pretty powerful for a small group of insurrects.  Apologies for getting
ahead of myself, so let's continue on through the story.

        I was new to the life of a monarch and was more concerned with the
luxurious ladies, shiny metals, and polished stones that the serfs surrounded
me with.  Our country was blossoming and becoming extremely wealthy, and the
bulk of our land development was on the coasts where we promoted and excelled
at tourism and trading.  Life was simple, and the peasants were satisfied,
but I didn't realize that there would soon be events that would shatter
every trace of innocence that we had.

        The problems started to arise when certain young men and women within
the colonies decided that toil and a peaceful life was not enough to satisfy
them.  We had about 10 years of protection from the galactic coordinator
left, and as we watched the dissent of these juveniles we realized that life
could soon become much more difficult.  It started off with little things,
like listening to rock and roll music.  The "Ray-Dee-Ohs" would fill the
minds of our youth with images of sex and violence.  Some of the peasants and
administrators sided with the musicians and said that they should be free to
express themselves in whatever way they felt was appropriate, and I, being a
benevolent philosopher king, put it to a vote and it was decided that the
music would stay.

        Times got harder as these children who were stripped of their
innocence became older and gained more power within society.  The music which
was once taboo became acceptable, and with that came a new level of
questionable music.  As the music became more and more acceptable, the
musicians continued pushing the limits of expression.  They began to advocate
obscene things like the fall of the republic and the bearing of arms.  Again,
the majority accepted these ideas, and we began to produce firearms.
Violence and corruption began in the kingdom, and I felt alone in the sense
that nobody else seemed to understand the effects that lewd music was having,
not only on the culture, but also in political and economical spheres.

        Cultural growth had stagnated, and the music worshippers formed a
large tribe, duely named "The Barbarians".  As the hoardes grew, they began
committing foul acts, such as vandalism and beastiality, but we had not yet
created an army to tame them with, and our last year of protection was coming
to an end.

        On our first year out of protection, The Barbarians struck and
captured 20,000 gold, which was the entire sum of all tax collected from the
one-hundred-billion citizens.  On a side note, all of the peasants lived in
the country, because we had wisely built zero urban territories.  Anyway,
after the barbarians stole our money it was rumoured that they had fled to
the great sea bazaar and spent it all on the shotty MooN merchandise.

        The next year the same thing thing happened, and they struck equally
as hard every year for the next 3 decades.  After we had amassed enough land
and our republic was making enough money and food to support a thousand times
what the current population was, I decided that it was time to create an army
and strike back.  That year we created 50 thousand troopers, jets, and tanks,
and the year after that we sacked The Barbarians and defeated them easily.
It was a painful victory, because we were attacking our children and our
brothers, but nonetheless our offensive attacks continued for the next 20
years until they were all dead.  Then we realized that there were eight more
groups of pirates within our borders that we had never even heard of.  Well,
a couple of weeks later, they all attacked us at once and continued to attack
until they wiped us out.  I was the only one to survive, and that is merely
because I had been working on space flight, and I jettisoned myself to
another intergalactic BBS.

The moral: buy more troops

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

 odO$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.$Obo.odO$|$Obo.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$.odO$Obo
 Copyright 1999 by The Neo-Comintern                            #62-05/06/99

All content is property of The Neo-Comintern.
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.
