VOL. 1, ISSUE NO. 4, and BY GOLLY, THE TOILET HAS RETURNED!!!
(c) 1997, All rights reserved to the writers a.k.a. the members of the Gopher Society, which now has a PO Box for the computer illiterate.
NOTE: This issue, unlike the last issue, is thoroughly spell-checked and fuckups will be kept at a minimum.

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-EDITOR-IN-PROGRESS-

rewired

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-WRITINGS, COMMENTARY, POETRY & RAMBLINGS-
Dragon-Type Person Guy
Nobody in Particular
Jane Dough #69
The CIB Man
Dragon Girl
Rue Atha
Mr. G

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-THIS ISSUE IS DEDICATED TO-
Phloid, for whom without consistent philoskofizing
and my continuing caffeine addiction
and attempts to put together the pieces of my comic
about a lonely duck who got taken away by short gray men with big, black, slanted eyeballs,
...uh, thanks. Huh? I'm confused, where was I going with this?

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-THANKS TO-
Mr. G., for putting this thing on the internet and aiding the computer illiterate
The CIB Man, for the twisted header
Nobody in Particular, for accepting my apology for quoting her as me
Whoever put that toilet back on that hill... I LOVE YOU, MAN!!!

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TABLE-O-CONTENTS

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A NIFTY EDITORIAL RANTING ABOUT AN ESCAPADE IN NEW AGE TERRORISM by REWIRED A GEORGE STORY by MR. G, OMINCHANNING, DTPG, CIB MAN and REWIRED FEAR by NOBODY IN PARTICULAR CONTRACTING INSANITY by DRAGON TYPE PERSON GUY UNDERNEATH THE BED by REWIRED THE WORLD ENDS by DRAGONGIRL a DAUNTING MEMORY TICKLING THE BACK OF MY MIND AS I SIT HERE AT 3:02am EXPRESSING MY MENTAL SPILLS THROUGH THE MEANINGLESS SYMBOLS THEY CALL LANGUAGE IN A CROOKED FORMAT THEY CALL POETRY by REWIRED TO BOMB OR NOT TO BOMB? by DRAGON TYPE PERSON GUY EARLY POETRY by THE CIB MAN LEG BRACED SCARECROW by REWIRED A VAMPIRE SONG by RUE ATHA BLEH by MR. G. THE MAKING OF AN ASSAMITE by THE CIB MAN UNTITLED #1 by JANE DOUGH #69 CHILDHOOD by DRAGONGIRL NOTE TO DRAGONGIRL by DRAGON TYPE PERSON GUY AD RETROSPECTUM by MR. G LATER POETRY by THE CIB MAN COLD FEAR by REWIRED UNTITLED #2 by JANE DOUGH #69 REBUTTALS OF iM by REWIRED and THE CIB MAN IMMORTAL by DRAGON TYPE PERSON GUY

There was a considerable amount of fuckups last issue, instigated by yours truly. I've made a list and I'll go through them quickly: I began typing Nobody's article, stopped, came back, thought I wrote it, didn't feel like finishing it, and so I used it as a quote under my name; I didn't spell-check; I typed some stuff of Ominchanning's that I shouldn't have; my nose is crooked (I dunno, ask Mr. G). I also keep breaking things at work.

Rambling time: I'd forgotten how much fun having fun really is. It gives you a power, a certain power that makes that moment memorable over the dull and boring others that deplete and drain the energy out of you. When your with friends, acting like assholes, and not giving a damn about what people think. I think the lesson to be learned from this night is, as the man you know as the CIB Man put it, Shoot First, Ask Questions Later. I'm always the one to question things down to the bone, not only the how but the why, to the point when they're meaningless and dry. All purpose seems gone, but it only seems gone because their has to be a drive behind purpose, behind experience, and that lies in the individuals experiencing. We just let go tonight and forgot who we are. In doing so, in loosing that intense thought and character we've made ourselves to be, we found another part of our selves that could coexist with our debating, philosophical sides. We found the new-age terrorists within us. Not those idiots leaving bombs in places were they kill a shitload of innocent civilians, but, as said in a kick-ass article from SoB, the kind of terrorist that hands a teacher a sandwich and runs the other direction -- the kind of terrorists that make others think, that make others ponder. We are the assholes of the new era. Assholes that this civilization needs. Yes, we all need to be assholes.

There is the habit of the human mind to loose itself in the mind of the masses. Many seek acceptance through trying to behave, act, and even think like a specific group of people. Their minds fuse together and they react as a whole to a stimulus (therefore explaining riots, where people claim to be driven by emotions and thoughts that were "not their own", but possibly a collective feeding on itself). Whether there is an Occult link to it or not, humanity tends to be a social species. This makes things much easier for us, yet subject us to danger as well. While thinking as a group, while having working within a tribal mind, we subject ourselves to a state of vulnerability that allows us to be controlled without our knowledge. Through deliberate disinformation campaigns and institutions of society and other forms of mind control, we can be driven like drones. We are. A shadow government is doing it. There is evidence, if you look in the right places.

Exercise free will and you overthrow the government. At least the one hiding in the shadows behind all the governments of the world. Those who raped the eagle, who truly burn the purpose behind the flag: freedom. Those, in this country in particular, hiding behind a guise of democracy and a mask of justice. My deepest fear is what lies behind the mask.

Hopefully not a short little gray dude with and oversized cranium with big black slanted eyeballs.

Enjoy the issue.

I recently received your letter addressed to Someone Else. I would appreciate some information on your confidential papers. After receiving the information I rightfully deserve, I will turn you into the authorities. If this information you claim confidential is not forthcoming, I shall be forced to take action and call my personal, magically-inclined being. He will then summon his rather large mammalian fiends to trample your cerebellum.
Thank you for your time and money. Please respond immediately or you shall be terminated.

As George walked, he pondered and pondered that fragment of unseen memory that was just on the tip of his mental tongue, lingering inside his head, just out of reach; lost in the shadows of his deluded subconscious. He looked at the brick. Nothing. He smelled the brick. Nothing. He licked the brick. Nummy. He sighed. He was getting nowhere. Yet there, in the silence of the earth, as the cool summer wind blew in his face and through his hair, brushing his bangs across his face, he let go, relaxed, raised his frequency with nature. And the brick? He listened to it, and it told him the truth. He was looking too hard for his answers. He was driving himself insane with his notions, running in circles with his thoughts, binding himself to a stunted phase in his personal evolution and entrapping himself in a cell of his own making by holding in his emotions. He needed to express himself, find himself. And the brick told him more. The brick scared the hell out of him.

He dropped it, and it plopped to the soft ground with a prominent SQUISH. Mud splattered against George's jeans. The general pissedoffedness took him out of his enlightened state.

Now George had muddied jeans, and it kind of looked as though he had just had a very squishy crap. So, George, not being an extremely bright person picked the brick back up started yelling and cursing at it. This yellow brick though was very wise and it said "sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me." George realizing suddenly that this was a very wise brick indeed, wiped it off and asked it what he could do about his soiled pants. The wise, yet occasionally perverted brick said that he should go to see, the wonderful, but somewhat disgusting "Giant Burping Gerbil."

"So where the hell is this Giant Belching Hamster?" queried George.

"Giant Burping Gerbil," corrected the brick, " It's a Gerbil you numskull., and you only get to ask one question."

"Why?" asked George

"Because that's how these things work," answered the brick.

"Haahaa you silly brick, I've tricked you into answering another question," laughed George

The brick quickly replied, "No you haven't , I, I ... Um, ... Uh ... I was ... just thinking aloud"

"Oh O.K. then," agreed George, "but ... ? Uh why are you thinking aloud then?"

"Well, I wasn't," replied the ever increasingly stupid brick.

"Look I got you again!" Shouted George.

"In that case I'm going to send you to hell," the truly ignorant brick replied.

*Poof* George arrives alone in hell....

"Hurm." George thought to himself out loud. This is a very interesting place, maybe I will come here for vacation next year, but most unfortunately I must get home to get my rather large cube of Spam out of the microwave or it may turn into a giant yellow brick. He thought for a bit on how to get home then soon realized that if he went to a pet store he my find a giant burping gerbil. The gerbil could show him the way home. As he wandered about looking for a pet store he came across a perplexed looking guy who wasn't really a guy and they began to talk.

The reason I say that this guy wasn't actually a guy is because he had rather large turnips growing out of his eyeballs, and he did not have a physical body, but I guess that's all just part of being dead. Don't ask me how one can determine if a dead guy with turnip eyes is perplexed or not, I think it's just a nostril feeling. Anyhow, George walked up to this guy-like thing and attempted to start a conversation by asking if he had seen any Giant Burping Gerbils or local pet stores. Turnip man just stood there and emitted a long gaseous ethereal, sounding noises that resembled the sound "I'm a Muskellunge."

Now, George marveled at his predicament. He didn't realize there were pet stores in Hell. It was kind of a novel concept. Turnip Man was still making noises. George stood for a moment and took a closer look at him and recognized those weren't turnips, they were RUTABAGAS!

George said, "Hey Mr. Turnip Man... do you know those aren't turnips, they're rutabagas?"

Turnip/Rutabaga man said, "Ahhh you found me out..."

George said, "You aren't Satan, are you?"

Turnip/Rutabaga man said, "Kinda... Actually..." He unzipped his head and it was Barry Manilow!

George recognized him, and his eyes went wide. Then he turned around and got the hell out of there... Funny... that was a pun... Hell, get it??? oh well...

George came to on the side of a road in a ditch covered in garbage. He sat up and looked around curiously. He scratched behind his head and sniffed. He stood up, brushed himself off, took a breath of the cool, fresh air, farted, and ripped off his face to throw it in the ditch. He extended his arm and stuck out his thumb in hopes that some shmuck would pick him up and give him a ride to the nearest phone booth where he would call Somebody. He waited and waited, but people just flied passed him in their cars, giving him weird vulgar expressions. No caring was left in this world. He laid out on the road in hopes that someone would run him over.

Eyes closed, he heard a faint rumbling. A bus was approaching. A big bus. A big kick-ass bus with all sorts of weird art drawn on the outside with some dude with a top hat on and a goatee and stoner glasses with a cigar hanging out his mouth in a trench coat driving it. Inside were a whole bunch of stoned people. How did George know this? He was special. And although he hated drugs, he felt for the stoned people. The bus was approaching. It crept closer, closer, with each passing second. Like what the fuck else would happen, you SHMUCK.

Well, the bus stopped. Eyes still closed, he heard the door open, and footsteps approach him. Someone leaned down and lifted a Styrofoam cup to his lips. "Hazelnut coffee, brother?" It was a polite young black fellow in flannel.

George found he could only utter one thing: "C.... caffeine....."

Fear. It's in everything we do. 100 per cent of everything we have ever done was caused by fear. A fear of being shut out. A fear of being broke and dying of starvation. Fear of ourselves. That last one can even affect the people around you if you fear yourself and you hoped to reinforce your self confidence. Everyone knows that you will put down other things to lift yourself: the thing is everybody knows this and they whine and scream and threaten when its being done to them yet they don't give a flaming shit when they do it to others. They come up with some real stupid reasons why they had a right to do it. 'Well, she was saying shit about me,' or 'the stupid fuck deserved it, he was...' That right there is the fear it just (?) back and fourth between people. Both the one fear the other one is trying to bring them down. No ONE really fears you. They fear what you could do. If they hold back it is usually caused by fear of what will happen if they say the wrong thing. If they lash out or scream or punch people its a fear of what will happen if they don't act tough as hot shit. Fear that it would mean they were a wimp. But fighting just proves exactly that. It proves they don't have the balls to sit down, think about it then talk it out, because they fear that it might prove they were wrong. Oh no! It just might prove that they had no right to do what they did. If you were wrong, then what? Does that make him better? Oh no, we can't have that can we? That definitely wouldn't help your cause much now, would it? I know that you've heard your parents tell you the exact thing I just told you. I know that most of you don't believe it or don't care. But I'm saying it again because I'm hoping that it might sink in just a little bit more. I'm hoping that we could cut down on all these idiotic actions. I know there is no way in hell we could ever make the world perfect. What would life be like without a challenge? But let me ask you something: Do you want to be that person somebody would like to see leave? Do you want to be hated by all the people who know you? You having nothing to loose except a couple enemies. Please believe me when I tell you I sure as hell don't want anybody dead for a few works they said to me. You have to realize that everyone around you has got problems they must deal with. Sometimes you've just got to let a couple of them on your side. Nothing is gonna fall apart if you forgot about something somebody says to you. What's right is almost always going to make you feel bad at first, but believe me you will feel a whole lot better in the long run.

This is a little story about getting "sucked in". I hear people talk about getting sucked into many things, such as Sci-Fi and Sci-fantasy. I also hear about people getting suck into Religions and actually just about anything, including "Reality". I am sick of hearing people bitch about things they don't believe in. I am not a religious person but I don't mind and in fact do like some people who are. I may complain about religion but I also have studied it and plan to again. I have asked people what they believed in and got answers that where not nice, such as "The fucking truth you sadist commie.". I don't like answers like that. I think anyone can believe in anything they want as long as they don't try to force it down other peoples throats. If you go back to one of the earlier issues of the Gopher you will see a quote from me: "I believe in a persons right to there own eternal pleasure or pain whatever it may so be" or something like that. That was said in the car while Rewired and CIB man where arguing about religion. Actually the original had "or the lack there of" on the end of it.

Now back to my point. I think all people are normal. There is no insanity, just unpopular beliefs. I think that too many people are locked up because they believe in the existence of fairy folk. They just see things that are uncommon. I personally believe that there are or at least were dragons. I also do believe in fairy folk. I think that many creatures still exist in a realm that was created off of this one. Magic is a actual force in many things. I know this because I have cast spells that worked. The magic I use is a form that I read about over two years ago. It is a magic in witch one does not devote their power to one source but you get it from many by asking for that things help. I as of yet have found much power is granted to you if you believe you cause is worthy and it does not harm anyone.

Another thing is dreams. If you don't believe that there is meaning in dreams you should think about it more. I had many dreams that came true in the following day or days. I also had dreams that I remember more clearly ten years after I had them than I do on what happened yesterday. For many if not most or all, dreams are a way to tell what is going to happen if you do the exact thing that you plan on. This however is not what happens usually. In most cases you are an idiot and just go off on your own and do something stupid that no one liked, then you lose the thing that you where trying to better even though it was already the best thing in the world. Then that night you have a dream where you finally get hit with the notion that you really fucked up and it is going to change, but not the way you want.

These are the things that they call you insane because of and you think are going to get you killed, and you kinda hope they will, too.

The point of this story, if it had one, was to show you that the kid who is liked by people that think you're bad is really worse than you. Just he chooses to put it all inside his head and what until he is given some time to figure it out.

This is the way the world ends,
not with a bang, but a whimper.
We're all just sort of wandering
from room to room,
from person to person,
aimlessly --
with no purpose.
When you loose your purpose,
you loose everything.
When that black hole,
commonly known as apathy,
eventually swallows us up,
there will be no fireworks,
no confrontation with an angry god.
The world ends, instead, with the whimper
of a small child.
This is the way the world ends,
not with a bang
but a whimper.

I felt your soft lips
for minutes and minutes that seemed hours and days
so long ago, so very long ago, but not really.
I smelled that certain scent of yours, so sweet
I felt that warmth you emitted, so comforting
I felt our bond, so real, so true, so frightening.
As my world was falling, my reality shattering
you walked in to ease my pain, and I pushed you away
to no avail, you struggled for a year or more to latch onto me
Now, big surprise, you are gone
you have dissipated from view
you have melted into the astral mists of the past
you've become yet another nagging regret in my mind,
an aching emotion in my heart, a dream that breaks me up, but can't break me free
I need you now,
yet you no longer desire me.
You're away and you've found your Self,
a part of me I seek today in so many thoughts of my pasts.
You could've been a key to unlock a door of happiness.
I could've been something more than what I've become.
Oh fucking well.
That's just how it happens sometimes.
Always something there to annoy you, keep you focused, push you forward
even as it holds you back.

In the 1920s and 30s scientists proved that the atom could be split and it would release the energy that holds it together. The next question was if this would start a chain reaction witch would make it possible to release great amounts of heat and energy. This may be a new source of power.

However in 1939 World War II began with the invasion of Poland. This made some countries start work on an atomic bomb(one using the new technology as a weapon). It was not till two years later that the United states became involved in the war. It was not long before America was in the war till the end and they needed to begin the race to create the nuclear bomb.

In 1943 a secret government group began work on the Manhattan project, the project of building a nuclear bomb. Unlike most countries however the United States Government did not start their research in the most advanced laboratories but in a small town in New Mexico. The United States thought they where at the biggest disadvantage because they had started so late. Also the first atomic reaction was created in Germany so they had the most time to study it.

The United States Government between the years of 1943 and 1945 authorized the payments of over two billion dollars to the group of scientists working on the project. This amount of money was almost unimaginable in the 1940s. Some how the government was able to hide this from most of congress and the population of the US Of the people who did know of the project and the money very few of them knew the purpose of the project. The people that did know hoped that this would end the war and save hundreds of thousands of US soldiers.

The scientists that worked on the project where brought from all over the country. Many of the scientists that worked on the bomb had lost loved ones in the war so they worked on the bomb more than ever thought reasonable. By 1945 the scientists knew the theory of the bomb but had to then make it into a working weapon.

With the surrender of Germany in 1945 great relief came, the US no longer had to worry about Germany completing the bomb before they did. However Japan was still a major problem, not because or the threat of an atomic bomb(although that was a concern) but because they where excellent fighters and they would defend their home to the end. The US did begin winning more battles after Germany had surrendered but they still lost many men.

On July 16, 1945 the scientists at Los Alamos had become successful. On that day a giant fireball rose above the desert. This marked the beginning of nuclear warfare and the possible solution to the problem in the pacific.

On July 24, 1945 President Truman gave the order to drop the bomb on Japan. This order would change the course of history and of warfare.

A few days after this order was given a Ship called the Indianapolis was heading for a small island in the pacific. Stationed on the island of Titian was a small group of pilots and technicians. This secret groups job was to deliver a punch that would knock Japan out of the war and bring it to an end. When the Indianapolis arrived this signaled the proposed end of the war. On the night of August 5, 1945 the first atomic bomb was being loaded into the B-29 bomber, Enola Gay.

Early morning on August 6th was a significant event in the war because that is when the, now famous, B-29 bomber lifted off and headed for the city of Hiroshima. At 8:15 a weapon was used that changed the history and course of the world. This weapon is still the most destructive ever used in a war. The most troubling thing is this was only on of two that had been sent to Tinian. On August 8th the second bomb was sent to another city in Japan, this time it was a city called Nagasaki that was the target of the bomb. Both of the cites and thousand of people where removed from the earth. This was one of the most horrifying events of the war. On August 10th Japan offered a surrender if they would be allowed to keep there government and that Emperor Hirohito be allowed to remain on his thrown.

President Truman sent a message to the Japanese that did not respond to the condition of their surrender. This response almost caused a military takeover of the government except it did not get the support of the war minister. It is believed that if his support had been given the United States may have had to complete and use the third bomb which was being assembled. Fortunately the surrender was complete and the third bomb was never used.

Emperor Hirohito was allowed to remain on his throne until his death in January of 1989.

That is the official story of the bombing. There are however many accusations against President Truman and other members of the government that the bombing was not necessary. In actuality it is claimed that the number stated in most books, that is 500,000 American lives saved, is a exaggeration of the findings of the groups in the government. The actual estimate of cost in human lives where between 30,000 and 100,000. If this is true than Why did Truman decide to dope the bomb. Was it still worth the cost in life. It is easy for people in the United States to believe because it was their lives and the lives of their loved ones. Another question is if it was necessary to drop the second bomb after only two days. If we had waited another few days the Japanese said that they where preparing to surrender.

The war is said to have ended in a moment of glory for the United States but many soldiers believe that it was not a wise decision to release such a devastating weapon on a country that would have been in ruin within a few months. If we had not released the bomb there was a plan that would have ended the war in a manner that was more human. On November 1, 1945 there would have been an attack on Kyushu, a small island that is 600 miles south of south of the main continent of Japan. If this did not end the war the American forces would have had a base for the attack on Tokyo, the capital city.

This is a summarized account of the major point that prompted the use of the atomic bombs that where dropped on Japan and are credited with the winning of the second world war. Who is to say if the decision was right or not. There is still much mystery to why some people made the decision they did but it is known that they where made and there is nothing that anyone can do about it now. I just hope that there is never a need to use the weapon created in that war ever again.

The body is dead, hard on the pavement
my fingers are moistened by the red salty lubricant.
The substance which I feed on, controller of my
mechanized existence. I still see the imprint
of her mind, screaming yelling showing me her face.
To drink her blood she entered me. Her wants and fears
things she loved and hated heightened in me
by the knowledge of her death. Her deserving wrath
shows me her grizzled naked corpse, wracking my
body even as she fills it. The blood in my veins is
not my own anymore. Countless people flow in me, and
I am lost. I, who became this to be free, am now
enslaved by those I wished to avoid becoming.

The blood on my lips is beginning to dry, my thirst
satiated, body satisfied, mind at war.
I think I loved that woman. That person who I destroyed,
condemning her blood to be mixed with my own. She noticed
I was different from the start, but it didn't stop
her from filling my mouth with her sweet taste. She never
hesitated from touching or being touched. I wanted to embrace
her, this flaming mortal who set my mind afire, making me
feel more real, and less like an apparatus of death.

Abhorring the idea that she would reject my nature,
leaving me lost in a morbid state of solitude
I kept most of my heart, but offered a portion,
showing some of my inner fire, and core compulsions
She saw what I showed her, but her eyes were blind, or
maybe they were clearer than I can imagine. Soon touches
were fewer, and contact was lost. I became unfathomably
disoriented, but immortal blood makes for unbreakable spirit
though pieces may crumble off, my capacities are vast. There
was no anger, only emptiness, and realization of what I was,
and the isolation I was to bear. Seeing things as no on else
does. Floods of emotion mortally unbearable. All I had
to do was loose myself and drink her that I might be filled.

My feelings would no longer be hid. I would take
her with the black knife, let the beast of my kind
take over. I came to her in the night, pulling her innocently
into the dark parking lot. Grasping her firmly
I told her I loved her and let the beast take over.
My hands turned to shiny black claws, nearly metallic,
and my body and face distorted emptying the pent up
monster within. One scream "Free me!" before I raked
open her throat and drank her being. Her blood gave
me new strength and new reason to rebel against my inner
anarchy. I fought off the beast, as I accepted it,
letting it become part of me, but in a way I could control.
Oh, what a price is existence. Where your bones feed off
of those you love, and mind excites to the shadow of night.

I won't want to return to childhood
when I get older
A time ruled by insecurities and fears,
a time of writing term papers by the light
of the 2 AM moon ...
of dancing around and games -
games were masks are interchanged
for new masks
Life is never easy,
it's just a long series of things
that we will never understand
And you told me that
these were the best years of
your life
My God ...
I'm sorry

After reading your story today, I am a good friend of the editor, I thought to drop you a line. Well here it is.
| / KerSplat ______
How's that?
Anyway, I am a fellow dragon and a bit insane, if you couldn't tell, and I just felt like writing to you. This is going into the Gopher, I think, so many people will be reading it. I liked your poem and I hope you write more. If you feel inspired to talk to me, you can get in touch by e-mailing the Gopher and I will get in touch back after a bit of time.

Note: This piece is kind of for me to remember a few years down the road. I wanted to put down on paper the story of how the Gopher crew came to be before my brain is overrun by mathematical induction and other nasty things. I'll try to make it interesting, but it may be boring... I'm sorry. Anyway... here it goes...

I sit here, home on Spring break, listening to the radio. All of my "original" set of friends are either in school, or at their colleges. Except for Phloid. He's in the army. That was always a topic of oddity in our circle... Phloid in the army. It was so contradictory. At any rate, here I sit. Having nothing to do for today (sheesh... It is spring BREAK after all), I'm content to sit here and try to remember those now nostalgia/gold looking, but really aren't that golden days, with a touch of fondness. It's kind of interesting how we all met.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I was in Boy scouts. Through circumstances and happenstances and all other manner of stances, I left the Boy Scout troop I had started out in, and helped to start another one. I was full of idealistic stuff then. All sorts of interesting serve your country, be a good citizen stuff. Guess I was impressionable. It happens. It really wasn't all that bad, I guess. Anyhow, after about a year of so, we got a new set of Webelos that were old enough to be Boy scouts. Now being that good example type person, I was supposed to make them all feel comfortable and adopt a couple of them. There were a couple of them, like Annoying Hyper Boy, and Let's Go take a Smoke Boy, and I Don't Like To Take Showers Boy. Sure I was nice to them, but I really didn't go out of my way to help them with anything. Then, there was a couple, like little Brillo Headed 'Fro Boy and Annoyingly Tall Almost as Tall as Me and Three Years Younger Than Me Boy who were pretty cool. I adopted those two, pretty much, although they might not have realized it. Those last two hoodlums were Dragon-Type person Guy, and The CIB Man, although it could be argued they weren't quite guys/men then... (just kidding...) Anyhow, we got along and we were doing good old boy scout things like going camping, making Carbonated Pudding (really!), sneaking out of campouts in the middle of the night, burning butterchurns and building various pumpkin smashing devices. The CIB Man and I used to sit around during the meetings and try to memorize various Beck songs... we got through "Loser" and half of "Pay no mind". It was all great fun. One night, we were trying to improvise on a Beck style song for some odd reason. It was odd... It didn't flow right. The CIB Man was good with words and meter, so he fiddled around with some words on paper, and he came up with a poem, of the style I call "JimBobisms." You might have seen some of his more polished work that style in the last issue of Gopher. It wasn't much, but I thought it was pretty damn cool. He wrote another one or two through his desire, or my coercion, I'm not quite sure. The one about triangle pants is one of his very best in my opinion.

Dragon-type Person Guy was in the Boy Scout Troop, too. He didn't talk too much, but he was a conspirator in our wacky hijinks type stuff. I didn't really talk to him very much early on. He had a brother, who, by chance is Phloid.

Phloid was a year younger than me. In High School, for a year or two, he used to have a large duffel bag with a shoulder strap. He would place the strap on his forehead, and walk around the school with his bag bumping him on the bum... It was an interesting sight. Now for whatever reason, I was talk to him off and on, but I would always get annoyed by him. It was rather odd... I think he made my brain hurt. He used to hang around with a guy with wild black hair who always had a Wayne's World Hat. I'm not certain, but I think he was working on a western comic with Phloyd and Guitar Guy. Now if you don't know who that was, you haven't been reading Gopher regularly.. (hint: it was Rewired) Now, I really didn't talk to him much in those days, since I had my own agenda, or some such. I was hanging around with a girl I'll call Heather. She and I were in track for many years, and I was interested in her. One year, we even worked at the same summer job, although in different departments. We hung around some, but nothing even happened, because I didn't do anything. I'm such a dumkopf sometimes. We used to do stuff like hit a movie or such, for lack of anything to do in our rural community. By some way or another, she knew Rewired through some class or another... we would stop at his place a couple times during that summer. He recognized me in passing from my brief trips though the art room. That's how I started talking to Rewired. Anyhow, another summer came, and I managed to screw up my friendship with Heather a couple times. It was a bad scene (at least to me) I started to hang out in the art-room more and more, since I was in art class. It was my senior year, and I needed some filler in my schedule. I liked art, soo... I did nifty projects like tree murals on walls and I made a wheel art contraption. You may have seen those things: A wheel spins with paper stuck to it, and you squirt paint onto it. All nice and safe, right? I made one... hehhehheh. A quarter horse engine running on wall current. It was cool, except it liked to fly apart sometimes...

Somewhere about that time I took to carrying rolls of Ritz crackers in by shirt pocket for lunch. It looked absurd, but I figured, hey, that's the point. Some people liked to come up and mooch them off of me, and Rewired was one of them. We talked some. At that time, he was working on a new project with a duck in a baseball hat as its character. It was pretty cool.

Around then, I was writing the plot for a video game I had wanted to make. It was going to be a nice little role-playing game with a nifty plot. I had drawn some art for it, but honestly, I was having trouble. I'm not an artist. I enlisted the aid of Ominchanning and Rewired for some art. Also, I had a few questions on the nature of elemental reactions in the mythological sense, which the CIB Man had studied at one point. He was into that scene, so I figured I could ask him about it, so I didn't have to research it. I'm a lazy bum. Rewired had promised me some artwork for the game, but it wasn't quite ready. I asked him if it was cool to pick up the artwork later that night, and he said yes. I had been giving the CIB Man rides to Boy Scout meetings, having gotten my license a month or two back, so he came along with me to Rewired's place after the meeting. I pulled into his driveway, and went up the long and bumpy path up to his house. Rewired came out of the house with a piece of paper. I started to introduce the CIB Man, but Rewired interrupted me and yelled, "GopherBoy!"

The CIB Man said, "You!"

I asked, "You two know each other?"

The CIB Man and Rewired nodded. Evidently, The CIB Man had at one point ridden on Rewired's bus and was telling him about some story involving Russian mechanical gophers lurking under the bus... Pretty odd, but cool.

So, time went on. I was still going to school, and scouts, so I saw everyone. Eventually, I graduated from High school, with all of the trappings, including a graduation party. I invited pretty much everyone on the Gopher crew. It was a pretty small affair, but it was exciting. Phloyd and Dragon-Type Person guy had brought some fireworks along, so we all had entertainment. Later on that summer, those two had a summer solstice party at their place. That event was interesting, as well. I had the first of many run-ins with the Evil Couch there. We all thought that party was pretty groovy, and we all tolerated each other, so we got together a couple more times that summer, in various configurations.

About August of that summer, we had all gotten bored, and we needed something to do in our rural local. In a town a couple miles up the road, a new coffee shop had opened up, so I went to check it out with someone. For the life of me, I can't remember who went with me, but I went.

I could ramble on more about college, but that would bore you. Essentially, that first quarter, I went to class and didn't do much else. I'm not a social animal by nature. I came home for a weekend, and I went over to the CIB Man's place to shoot pool. He had also invited the gopher crew, so this was the first time we were all in the same place at the same time. In talking to many people I found that many things were happening. Rewired had met Claire and then the rest of that scene played out. Mel, who was one of my friends from high school got pregnant. Dragon-type Person Guy was seeing someone. Heather and I hadn't talked in months, so naturally, we drifted apart. Rowan Fae and Rewired had convinced the crew to go to the coffee house now and again. Everything was moving on without me. I lamented the time-not-standing-still thing for a while and then I moved on, sorta. I came home for Christmas break, and saw all of these wondrous changes. I also met Claire, while visiting the high school while talking to the art teacher. By some sort of occurrence, she went to the coffee shop with us, and later over to Phloyd's place, home of the evil couch. Claire and I had a brief fling before I went back to school. I talked to her fairly regularly at school, incurring largish phone bills, but hey, that's what my job was for. Time rolled on some more, and it was magically summer. I was glad to be done with school. The gopher crew was going to the coffee shop fairly regularly, and it was a good time to be had for all. Through some happenings, I was dating Claire again. I thought all was peachy in that lovestruck sorta way. Later that summer, Phloyd went off to the army, so we all gathered at his place to wish him off. This marked the sort of split of our original group. A few weeks later, Claire abruptly moved forty minutes away. I was making trips out to see her with my hoodlum friends, but it was a strain on her, me, and my car. We saw a couple concerts while she was out there, but eventually, she moved to another state. She called me and more or less told me we were over. A few weeks later, my car died. It was about four days before I went back to college, so the car wasn't a very large loss. I haven't had a car since. I did more school stuff, met more people, and I came home for Christmas again to see what had transpired in the months I was away.

Rewired had an idea from somewhere to start a zine to get his writings out. Only problem was, he didn't have the cash to print and distribute it. I told him about publishing on the internet, and he was interested. He got the first issue together, and I put it on my account at my home internet provider. The Gopher was born.

So, here I sit, on my spring break. I only have so much time before I go back to college. College is not bad, but I fear I am getting bland with all of my technical classes. I'm reluctant to let go of my life at home, but I know I must go on. I can't stay home forever, and I can't be with my friends here forever, either. I can, however, take time to remember the way things were, so I don't lose my roots totally. Thank you for letting me ramble on about my life. I apologize if it was boring.

liquid chickens are drowning in turpentine,
but I don't care because they'll vaporize in time.
the fumes are rising, intoxicating,
feel the power, feel the fumes.
gain the knowledge of the vaporized beings.
walk the planes, and the cubes, of corn.
soon the gophers will answer your call.
lean on the corn, do not let the wired guy make you fall.
although you've gained great vision, do not let it make you blind.
when you come back, you may have to go back to the old grind,
but I'll bet, that what you've seen you'll never forget.
____________________________________________

Living in a room all alone
you ask yourself why?
Living in this open lie
you start to break down and to cry
Ugly dreams they pierce you
Living life, with nothing new
Hopeful blade empties you
open veins awakens you
Pouring out, you cannot die
You drink your blood, becoming you
The sour taste of life begun
Life which is rightfully yours
but which you know you will never own.
Filling, frenzying, drinking the blood which is not your own
You have no care,
You have no cure.
You have but thirst, vengeance, and lust
You want the world to die,
to have it live in the room you were trapped in
but then you realize that your life has not changed,
that you are living in a room all alone,
asking yourself why?

____________________________________________

Aaaahhhhhhhh!
A scream made from paper,
seldom heard.
Voices shouting from the ink,
seldom understood.
Ideas written down for permanence,
lost for good.
Meaning drained by time,
lost thought, and word.

Withdrawn and away from anyone and everything, huddled tightly in the corner of a dark, dead room I lay motionless except for my constant panting from fear, and the shaking of my body, drenched in a cold sweat. Things are moving passed me, and I'm afraid. My legs are drawn up to my nose, and I try to hide myself as best as possible, but I know they're coming. I can feel them near. I can see their shadowy outline, their pale, cold skin. I can sense their evil, and they try to tell me they're not here to hurt me, but I know better.

The worst part is they'll make me forget it by dawn's light. It will all fade away in the blink of an eye, and I will never remember how much I despise them.

Now they are here. I look into their eyes and sense no feeling at all. Not even evil, really. Just barren, without a hint of...

Humanity.

There are seven planes of existence in our universe from where we stand in evolution at this point. right now you have an aura which consists of seven bands, each of which act as bodies for each of the seven planes, all of which are with you right now simultaneously. The body acts as a biochemical switchboard that allows the electrical body we inhabit in this reality to use it as a very sophisticated puppet, I would go as far as to say it uses it as a sort of "meat machine." The brain is used to filter out things and amplify things. It allows us to control ourselves more fully than the other planes. It's sort of a way to control and evolve our inner energy and at the same time express our inner self. I could say that the meaning of life is personal evolution, but I do believe it's up for the individual to decide what his or her purpose is. Their is no "greater purpose," only individuality. I believe individuality is the most important thing, that personal goals go above higher goals, and that the only rule in this is that you can exhibit your own free will as long as you don't inflict upon any other's.

There are, as I have said, seven planes in this universe. We're not the only universe, but I'll start here for obvious reasons (being that we're here and shit). We're on the "1st plane." I'll start on the seventh plane. Why? Because I'm fucking difficult, that's why.

The higher planes are the divine, spirit, and soul. In the divine plane all spirits and soul can interact and "hook up" with each other. In the soul plane each soul has their own individual plane from which they can yield control. In the spirit plane, all souls can meet with each other.

On the seventh plane there coexist the spirits and the souls within Nothing. The Nothing of which I'm speaking is the life force of many cultures, the energy Moray and Tesla tapped in the zero-point vacuum, the Force expressed in the Star Wars trilogy, the Tao, Chi -- the force residing in all things, the force that IS all things. Not god. There is no god. Get it through your damn thick skulls, life is about pursuing individuality, and you're not going to get that focusing on some big-ass higher deity that controls everything and tells you the lines between right and wrong. Yet there is a force, an energy, behind all things. This is the life force, the Nothing, the divine energy on the 7th plane. The Spirits could be visually rendered as luminous eggs floating endlessly in this Nothing. The souls are smaller, much smaller eggs, intellectualized self-aware contemplating units of energy. Very individualized. The Spirits are at a lower state of evolution, being not self-aware yet still having a consciousness. In order to evolve, groups of souls assemble in points upon a luminous egg.

Each being, Spirit or soul, has two minds that reside within it: emotional and intellectual, unconscious and conscious, there are so many names... The Spirit's two levels of mind I will refer to as Etheric ("collective unconscious") and physical/sensory ("collective conscious"). The soul's two levels of mind I will refer to as astral ("personal unconscious") and mental ("personal conscious").

Still underdeveloped, the spirit is at the control of the souls. But each soul attached to the spirit has equal control over the three levels of collective mind within it. It's like a great dream which we all share. Because their is more than one dreamer in the collective planes, there is some consistency. so, in a sense, the spirit is just a psychic robot for all souls involved -- the spirit is the accumulated of all souls attached to it.

Now these souls are our true selves, the core of our being. They have a power I'll refer to as Dreaming. When you go to bed at night and dream, you're Dreaming (usually in a dazed semi-conscious state) in your own, personal astral realm. When you're "awake" walking around during the day, your Dreaming (for many, often also in a dazed semi-conscious state) in the physical realm. The physical is still just a level of mind. It can be manipulated, with effort (thus explaining psychokinesis, spontaneous combustion, etc.) With training, you can learn to lucid dream and travel freely in your own plane.

The Etheric plane is the spirit's unconscious. It connects all the souls' astral realms in an accumulated state. There is no time in the etheric realm, which will make this plane a bit hard to understand. You have to take into account it's counterpart, the physical realm. In the physical realm existence is consistent and time changes. Energy, in one form or another, is consistent. It's form may change with age, but its always there. In the etheric realm, time is consistent and existence changes -- this'll take more explaining. Imagine all time existing at once -- every possibility, every fantasy, every thought, every emotion. And by means of focusing on a target you would draw yourself to that destination. which means that, while here in the physical realm I can't control time -- I'm always here, in the present. Over in the etheric plane, by means of focusing you can travel back to your birth, to an infinite number of probable futures or mightabeen pasts or collective 'fantasies.' Everything that we choose to bring about or experience slowly in this plane already exists in the other plane. We're sailing on a river going in a direction, and we can control the boat or let it go with a mainstream like blind idiots. The etheric plane is a plane that offers us choices, this plane is what we have chosen.

We nab specific portions of the unlimited random possibilities and put them in a chronological timeline in which we can experience them through a figment we've created as a result of our shared dream's consistency and the existence of a collective consciousness and personalized awareness. Easy enough to grasp. There's also the stuff about thought forms and interdimensional portals and stuff, but for reasons of space I won't go off the deep end into it (we're still in the shallow ends of this theory, kids, wrong or otherwise). I still say that if time travel is possible, and I believe it is, then we can travel into the past via our etheric body in the etheric plane, and maybe rise into some alternate collective (physical) universe, where the unconscious possibility is played out as a collective choice. Therefore we can time travel into our past and alternate pasts, into alternate presents and visit limitless collective conscious futures. Don'tcha think? (Apparently not the CIB Man.... )

This is my opinion/perception on the topic of multiple universes, in relation to time travel. First let me describe to you how universes are and why they are that way. Universes, according to many theorists believe that universes expand and contract. This concept would imply a middle or center from which universes come (Big bang theory), and that eventually the universe will return to this center. Universes are made from energy and matter, which are actually the same thing in different forms (E=mc²). It is my belief that space at the beginning and end of a universe's time will consist of an energy that has and absolute density, in other words the whole universe becomes very small. Point number two is that a universe and its matter reflect the energies from which it came. These energies which exist in the form of frequencies make up all ideas and knowledge that has ever existed, even from past universes. For everything that exists there is a corresponding frequency of energy which made it that way. Many different frequencies combine in harmonious bundles to form more complex things. One atom may be made of few, but strong frequencies, which would be why there would be a lot of it ex.-Hydrogen). To get what I mean by harmonious bundles of energy think of it like a red light and a yellow light combine to create something completely original- orange light. I see this as one of the major purposes for universes and time, the creation of new ideas, the expansion of knowledge. When a universe exists in its central state there is basically no passage of time, as no event can be considered to happen relative to another in absolute density. Therefore in order to gain knowledge, experience, and further the purposes of the previous energies the mass of energy spreads out once again to create new environments, where different energies will react with each other in new ways creating more ideas and more frequencies, perhaps even while furthering the strength of previous energies. It is important to note that old frequencies are not lost to make way for new, any more than the red and yellow light disappear to make the orange, the knowledge is always preserved even if its effectiveness is not. Many universes may exist simultaneously, but I believe that all of them have a common center-point whereat all energy flows.

Time: Time I believe is maintained by a constant flow of a non-frequency, or malleable frequency energy. This energy is required to maintain a constant environment where things can happen chronologically instead of haphazardly, or not at all. It is this energy which pushes along creation. When a person is born they have a certain amount of pre-defined energy (personality) and a certain amount of non-frequencied energy with which to develop. All things have some amount of this "flexible" energy, but in different proportions, a rock for example would have almost none. Anyhow, in order to time travel a being would either have to exist in a spiritual energy form already, and therefore not be limited by the constraints of time, or they would have to change into a spiritual form, which would in effect mess up the balance for the whole universe. No matter what, in order for a person to time travel they must become effectually dead first, and convert into a spiritual form that would be extremely powerful, as all of that being's physical energy would become spiritual as well. When a person time travels they turn into spiritual form and go directly to the center to be recorded along with the rest of the universe from the time traveler's jumping to the time traveler's destination point (for travel to past only.) Important: paradox has been avoided at this point because all energy that has come into existence from destination to origin has been recorded within the center ***it does not matter when energy in the center came into existence, in the center it exists outside of time***. The time traveler, after going to the center has his energy directed directly to the point where it wished to go. The physical universe where the time traveler came from no longer exists, but all of the spiritual energy is still in the center so the traveler's memories and existence are very real, and it did have a place where it came from. When the traveler arrives they come as a direct reincarnation into their previous form. Things that were considered to be paradoxical like killing your mother, or meeting yourself have been avoided because you came from a different history, and had a different past(future). Even if you could blow up the world it would not affect your previous existence because you are a new you, the old one had effectively died. Travel to the future is much simpler. When a traveler attempts to jump into the future the balance is not upset because it would turn into a spiritual form that would simply wait for the future to come and then go there. To the spirit, this passage of time would be inconsequential because it would perceive time differently, if at all.

That is my theory, love it, hate it, or just be confused by it. It's my idea and I'm going to stick with it unless proven wrong.

Is there a reason,
Is there a time,
for every thing
for every mind?

What is our purpose?
What is our plight?
Live in the day or
Live in the night?

What are the monsters,
under our beds?
What are these voices
inside or our heads?

Who are our enemies?
Who are our friends?
How will it turn out
when we're at our ends?

Is this the truth or,
is this a lie?
Should we stay sober?
Should we get high?

Why do we live ?
When will we die?
If you reach,
can you touch the sky?

ADDED NOTE: I share an interest in the subject of government control and the sneaky little things their doing behind our backs and the UFO cover-ups, if only sightings (but I think no doubt further... how much further I dunno... ) Any articles on this topic would be greatly appreciated by any enthusiasts or researchers. Or any information is welcome. Please. C'mon, I don't even know how to use the net...

The Gopher is a member of Z7Group and is graciously hosted on their server at http://www.z7group.com/zines/gopher

Any comments or suggestions or submissions (DEFINITELY SUBMISSIONS!!!) are welcome. Please send them to thegopher@geocities.com

And we're also available at a NEW SPIFFY PO BOX!!!!! Write to: The Gopher Society, PO Box 174, Thompson, Ohio, 44086-0174. No, we don't live in Minnesota (nyuk, nyuk, Ansat... )

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