WRITINGS FROM THE RODENTS OF THE UNDERGROUND
VOL. 1, ISSUE NUMBER 5.5; NEEP
© 1997, All rights reserved to the writers (the members of the Gopher Society)
WARNING: IF IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE EATEN, IT WOULDN'T LOOK LIKE A TACO


-SO-CALLED EDITOR-
Rewired

-EDITOR OF THE SO-CALLED EDITOR-
The CIB Man

-FORMATTING/EDITING OF THE EDITOR OF THE SO-CALLED EDITOR-
Mr. G

-WRITINGS, COMMENTARY, POETRY & RAMBLINGS-
Rewired
the CIB Man

-DEDICATION-
see: thanks to

-THANKS TO-
see: dedication


-TABLE OF CONTENTS-
edgeatorial by Rewired
The Rebuttals of iM #2 by the CIB Man and Rewired
drain by Rewired
The Makings of an Assamite part II by the CIB Man
The Forest by Rewired
Afraid by the CIB Man
The Chair by Rewired
Tears by the CIB Man
soble by Rewired
Report on 'Anthem' by the CIB Man
Revolution by Rewired
BGM music by the CIB Man
Even Words by Rewired
Zeus by the CIB Man
guru by Rewired
Catcher by the CIB Man
Skin by Rewired
Cults by the CIB Man

His head hurt, and he was sick. His throat was sore and his nose was slightly congested, and, as he sat at his computer terminal feeding into it these thoughts from his brain expressed through his fingertips upon the keyboard, he pondered just where he was going with his life, where he was. It was a question he'd most often avoided -- usually, he had pondered to the bone uncertain memories that pointed out where he might've been in the past, why he had had such experiences and what he was supposed to do with them. Now his memory was called into question, a faculty he'd relied on for answers for two years as he dug and dug into a subconscious level below that conscious life he lived. Such wondrous and amazing things had come to him. Such frightening images, such horrible truths -- but where they truths? Where they memories, or where they confabulations? The real truth, if there was one existent, most likely lied in between, he'd come to realize and accept. Yet just what was true and what wasn't true played a large part in just what he was going to do for the rest of his life. If he'd been chasing shadows for two or three years, he didn't want to dedicate his life to doing it at larger a scale and find out when he was eighty that all this had been some elaborate fantasy he had created subconsciously in his childhood and which came to light one night after being hypnotized by a lava lamp.

The lava lamp. That is how it had begun with him, but not really. It was a certain trigger that got him to step back and look at his life from a different level, and where the past was once accepted and irrelevant it now became imperative to understand and grasp and meant everything.

If he was chasing shadows, he had turned around to face them first that night.

Or they had finally let him remember a piece of his secret history.

--Rewired
edgeatorial
by Rewired

Don't ask. Promise me you won't ask. You don't want to know, trust me. Just think of this as a few parts of issue 5 that, due to some minor complications, didn't get added onto the version of five that was posted on the internet, andthensome. Alota andthensome. So much andthensome, in fact, that this is the first and probably only but there's always the chance issue fraction written by the CIB Man and, of course, my self.

I'm sick and I have a headache. I hope I feel better for the Cedar Point thing tomorrow, which is after prom. I didn't go to prom. Dances suck. Some day, maybe through the conduit of my writing, I'll let you know some of the massive reasons why. Traumatizing indeed, but only in a silly and pathetic way. Yet from me, who would expect anything less?

Self-annihilation trip over. 'Kay, here it goes.

Here's some literature to pollute your braincells.


The Rebuttals of iM - No. 2
Subject: Extraterrestrial "gods" of Sumeria and Shadow Gov't Tie-ins
by the CIB Man and Rewired

HISTORY OF ET CONTACT WITH MANKIND
Joined Allegations by a Variety of Researchers
Compiled by Rewired
Annihilated in [ ] by the CIB Man
Refuted in ( ) by Rewired

Human-appearing aliens [It is highly unlikely that aliens would appear human-like. Our bilateral appearance stems from amphibian ancestors; the line of evolution to this point is not likely to be repeated] : (yes, taking it from the standpoint of this is how we know ourselves and if two races of being on two different planets evolved the same way that would be ludicrous. Yet taking in account that if this theory presented here is true; that we stemmed from creatures that look like us -- in actuality WE would look like THEM) known by the Sumerians -- the first known advanced human civilization -- as the Anunnaki came down to our planet and established colonies to mine for gold. As servants to this task, they had their top scientist, Enki [How do I know this name?] : (A god in many religions, his name has to do with water and the snake) , mix their DNA with that of primitive man to create bodies [If they can space travel I would imagine DNA splicing would be old hat] : (from the perspective of the authors who presented me these theories, the civilization that landed here wasn't much more advanced than present-day man -- we, at present, now know that we can clone a goat and a monkey -- combining DNA, causing desirable effects in the end result and chipping away the undesirable -- that might be just a TAD tricky, my boy) as a sort of "cell" for undesirable souls [Where did the souls come from?] : (damn good question. Possibly their own race, maybe others. And if spiritual knowledge of the afterlife is known and they know they can exist beyond death, the death penalty would mean dick to them. The electric chair would be like letting them go free. The next incarnation and those who killed the prisoner are screwed. So think about it: what would make the perfect cell? -- a biological being whose brain, a biochemical switchboard for the soul, is wired to maintain an ignorance toward certain things! And why not get some free labor?) and to poison them with ignorance [If this advanced man how did it make him more ignorant?] : (Think of the soul as an energy, the brain as a filter. distort the filter, you can control what is exhibited in the realm in which the energy being is being exhibited by the conduit of the biological being) and distorted spiritual truth. Trouble erupts when young Anunnaki gods begin to have sex with the compatible female humans [Why would these intelligent scientists make attractive slaves?] : (Hrm, think about it -- why would YOU make a pretty blond slave that looks strikingly similar to your race -- c'mon, mining gold wasn't their ONLY purpose), which produce demigods [if demigods were produced during cross-breeding why not do it originally with DNA? If undesirable, kill them immediately] : (They were undesirable, and the Anunnaki gov't didn't know about the situation immediately -- you're so damn analytical, boy). After catastrophes involving a flood destroyed alien colonies [Aliens that advanced would not have problems escaping to space] : (they didn't; they descended to the sky -- now humanity, they were fucked!), and Enki had helped Mankind's survive against the Anunnaki's wishes [Why not kill Enki?] : (Hrm, government regulations against killing, it's ineffectiveness due to general knowledge of some type of afterlife). Mankind was permitted to survive [Why?] : (Remorse -- I don't know). We fought with them, attempting to make it to the stars as a unified race, and, in seeing this, the Anunnaki devised a plan to separate us across the world in different cultures [How?] : (Used the UFOs to herd them like cattle) and set us up with conflicting beliefs systems. They banished Enki [Kill him or get him off the planet] : (and you're anti-abortion!) and his desire to spread his spiritual knowledge through the secret society the Brotherhood of the Snake in his quest for spiritual freedom to Man, changed his name from "Prince of Earth" to "Prince of Darkness" and surrounded his character with the labeling of evil so that anything having to do with him would be hated -- an example is the snake, the symbol of both him and his secret society, and also a symbol of healing that is even used today in the Blue Cross logo. They intended to breed battle between those opposing groups of humans to get us more concentrated on life here on earth [Why would that matter? Technology increases fastest in times of war] : (right, but this technology they're increasing is being used against other members of their race and not against an alien government). They established kingship, which enabled them to take a step back into the shadows and veil themselves in myth and religion, making contact for the most part, only through the kings through "divine encounters" to teach and perpetuate theological nonsense and irrationality and keep mankind on the road to ignorance. They corrupted Enki's formerly-truthful secret society [they didn't corrupt it they reversed it -- this would have formed completely different outlooks, making it difficult to associate one with the other] : (thus proving my point), the Brotherhood of the Snake [where does this Brotherhood exist?] :(space station, underground bases or mines, etc.) [Wouldn't Enki be dead by now?] : (Probably, but he most likely has followers in his race), into an evil network which would promote physical hardship and spiritual decay [who cares if this society as this society is relatively unknown and secretive anyhow?] : (they're attempting to control us and are unknown for the purpose of being that unseen alien third party that arousing conflict between two human parties). Branches of this would become religions, governments, the paper money system [all things which led to technology, organization, exploration and/or spirituality] : (and wars, the Great Depression, mainstream thought and influence, wars over land and religion), and many other variables that make human society, and inevitably Mankind, today [is that a bad thing?] : (gee, uh, YES). Various alien races [species, you mean] : (analytical boy, picking, whiny, skeptic boy) have been visiting this planet since, continually using this planet for their purposes [if so many aliens are out to get us what's stopping them?] : (rules and regulations, such as a federation of planetary governments, perhaps? even in human society, where we would have the technology to take over a planet that lies on, say, Mars, we would have to abide by a certain law of advanced civilizations or do our operations in silence so as not to arouse suspicion. And about this government I've brought up -- if advanced civilizations made it to the stars, such a government would eventually be formed. I've reluctantly come to accept that government or damaging chaos are pretty much the only two options for an advanced species) and corrupting humanity, taking the opportunity to use human uniqueness -- namely our intense emotion and our attachment to the physical realm -- to use for their own purposes [how would this help an advanced race?] : (species, you mean?) [If they created us, wouldn't they already know about us?]

Questions posed here: where did the prisoner souls come from that the Anunnaki used to animate their biological slaves, Mankind? Did the demigods survive the flood [does it make a difference?] : (Yes, they might have a higher rate of psychic ability or other factors)? How are they different from average humans [wouldn't they be dead anyhow?] : (most likely, but they might be existing through certain bloodlines, which was my primal interest) -- more psychic ability? Can it be traced in bloodlines [most with psychic ability come from normal families] : (I believe, at least, that I mad a thorough investigation, through books in the least, of the Occult. In reading I didn't hear from what types of families those with psychic abilities come -- I have read that it comes to children during the pubescent years and is active in young children, maybe from birth to about five or even seven. After this time, since their lack of need, the psychic powers are repressed)? Are the demigods the abductees?


drain
by Rewired

Drain me, drain out this emotion
blame me, as I bleed, for this wild commotion
twist me up inside
suck me out my eyes
break me take me far away to my dark, dark, paradise
the black ocean in your eyes
you make me question why I sold myself
to anything else
why I told myself
it just wasn't worth it; that nothing was worth it
pain and misery is all that had become of me
until you came along and dug me out of this pit of death
how can I say it? thanks.


The Makings of an Assamite
Part II
by the CIB Man

Child. That is all I was when I first met one of those who I now call Kindred. I was about 8, and not fitting in well at my new school. I was able to see things in ways that others either couldn't or simply didn't want to. I saw inside of people, felt their overall emotion, intriguing, but discouraging, leaving my mind disquieted. Easily could I have blended in, using my ability to play on others emotions, saying the right thing to make a connection. Myself I could not deny though. To be with them I would need to become something I wasn't. Inner pain was great, but it was also a driving force.

The first time I met my mentor, Ankou, was on a windy spring day. I'd been riding my bike down the rough gravely road. A pothole grabbed my tire, and I was flung to the ground, grating my arm and hand. Pain. I laid in dirt, face down. When I rolled over: tall, black-dressed, female, mysterious, beautiful, deadly, kind. I lay cold in abeyance. My mind was racing, and fear was passed up by interest. She wiped a tear from my eye, and rubbed it on my wounds. My body was numb, and tingling. By the time I turned to pick up my bike my healer had vanished.

From this experience I knew I was special, set aside from the rest of humanity. It was a secret that I could only share with myself, and the wind, carrier of everyone's thoughts, and only trustworthy confidant.

Years past and occasionally I would see her ageless figure watching me. There she would stand or crouch: trees, crowds, buildings, alleys; like she didn't exist to others as anything more than an obstacle to move around. When I would try to approach her, I would mysteriously forget my purpose, and wander elsewhere.

At thirteen I had developed a crush on a girl who rode on my school bus. Every weekend I would bike ride down to a park called Hell's Hollow. It was very near her house, so I could go by it during my ride. Hell's Hollow is chiseled by a small river which, with the help of glaciers, has carved out some spectacular ravines. A road, long closed and worn away, ran through it, still accessible to my mountain bike. Frustrated by my lack of friends, and inner pain for a blind world, I laid down on the bridge that spanned the shallow creek. Closing my eyes I tried to turn inward, toward my mind. Once there I realized the whole outside was viewable to my mind too. While reaching outward I felt a presence near me, under me! Bolting up straight I entreated to any present to reveal themselves. With astounding agility she leapt up from under the bridge. In awe, was the only way I could describe how I felt. She simply stated "I am Ankou, you too will become Ankou in time." With that she bit her tongue, took out a small phial, spat in it. She told me that if I held the phial and thought of her, she would come to me. She also told me that if I drank the content I would be powerful, but that there would be greater power, if there was greater waiting. Her blood given, she transformed into a panther, and was gone from sight in seconds.

Life, Death, Questions. Standing on that bridge alone, old crush released, new emotions flowing stronger than the river beneath me. I was lost, but I finally knew my purpose; to be found. Blood spit promise held in hand. Answers had been promised, but thought was needed first. Why was I different? Should I drink? Time drew blanks.

A week past. The night was warm, and the moon was bright. The object of thought lay before me on my bed. Curious, and decided I picked it up and beckoned. Eyes closed, 15 minutes, her breath on my face. There she was, sitting on my bed, ebony dressed and virile as a cat. Her eyes were powerful, yet gentle upon me. My mind was opened, voice in my throat I asked "What is Ankou?"


The Forest
by Rewired

I find myself in the darkness of the forest. Lost, confused, not sure where exactly to go or if I should even move. Of course, I know I should move, they're pushing me to do so, but why? I can't answer, I shouldn't question, so I just go. I go and I go. I keep walking until I walk a bit away ahead, with the rest of my friends, my parents are trailing. Then I start trailing from my friends. I'm interested in this questioning. I wonder. There's something there. Something just ahead, in the darkness, and it's silence beckons me. I trip and fall, and I can feel the air rush into my face. I fall down a hole, and it is a deep hole, and a dark hole, and no this is not a sexual innuendo to the best of my conscious knowledge. It is cold down there, and I see images race at me, picture of me having experiences or seeing things that I only partially remember... or never remember having at all. I find there is much I do not know about myself. I am afraid. I am afraid of what I see, afraid that its real. It's not insanity I fear, I almost welcome it at times. It is reality that I fear. Have I known it as I thought I had, or was this, what I saw, a part of that reality that I had somehow forgotten, suppressed, ignored? Was this half-true, did I put masks on these memories to hide me from truths that I, for some reason, did not desire myself to know? Indeed, the hole was deep. I kept imagining I was seeing the bottom, that it was racing towards me, or me to it, but it never came. I just kept falling, and it hurt. There was a pain swelling within me. I was getting nowhere, and I was accelerating within it. I was there already, and getting ever more there ever faster. Nothing made any sense, and yet it did. The darkness gave me enlightenment, which gave me fear which scared me so much I didn't care anymore. Contradictions, lies.

Afraid
by the CIB Man

What are you so afraid of? It's just the world.

People today seem to fear the destruction of the world. WHY? I can see worrying about the environment, deforestation etc... Those things may actually matter assuming the world will exist long enough for us to enjoy the benefits of those efforts. However, worrying about nuclear devastation, comets, mass natural destruction, or alien invasion is stupid. If the world decides to loose its caramel filling, it will. No amount of preparation will stop it so just deal, OK? Personally I'm looking forward to an Apocalypse. It'll be a great way to narrow down the population don't you think? Another mass extinction should be due about any time now, just take a look at a time chart of the world to see when the last 4 or 5 have been. This could be a good thing, especially if the devastation is caused by nukes, because the radiation along with decreasing populations will cause mutations, the raw material for evolution. New species, resistant to radiation could develop allowing for a possibility of nuclear powered spacecraft. So the next time you wake up to a bright sunshiny morning just say to yourself "Isn't this a beautiful world, I can hardly wait till it blows up."

The Chair
by Rewired

It's here beside me, on it is propped two dresser drawers with cloths hanging out the sides. The chair. I remember this chair, and it must be pretty important, for it is all I remember. It has found me again, at my abode, beside my computer. My sister's room will be recarpetted tomorrow so ninety per cent of her room is in the hallway. Why the chair took up it's residence near where I spend much of my free time is beyond me. Maybe it's saying something, maybe it's synchronicity, maybe it is calling out to me, wanting me to remember. Or maybe its nothing, but I don't think so. I can feel it's aura, its irradiating truth. There is truth in that image of the chair. There is a truth there that I cannot for the life of me understand. Yet at one time I knew. It must mean something, for the image is burnt into my mind with such an intense form of the fear emotion that it has to be the key to something... or a door to something... or something that is blocking something else...

It's taunting me, because it knows I know. That alone disturbs me -- that I know, but that I will not let this part of me know. Another part of me, separate from this one, is either arrogantly selfish or overly-protective. Maybe both, and in a skewered way that might make sense. What surrounds the chair in my memory of my childhood? What shadows could it let loose if I dare pry into that image again?

It must've been so long ago... was I five? six? Was it November or December... ? Just atop my bed, paralyzed with fear that ran so deep my blood went cold and all else within me and the world I saw dissipated into a bleak nothingness that stung like cold air on my skin. It was the most horrid feeling I can recall. It has no meaning, just atop the bunk bed, looking down at the chair, unable to move my eyes from it. I was fixated on that chair. Whatever else had been going on, whatever happened before or after, meant nothing for me. I was looking at that chair, trying to remember it, so it would help me remember something else. And so that's it -- its a key. A key I don't know how to use. And on what door?


Tears
by the CIB Man

I drain my thought
from my eyes
you read them now
to drown in my sky
A thought reflected
in the ocean
A salty mist
A memory poured out
and dissipated
swallowed greedily
by thirsty mouths
and hungry minds
that gaze upon these words.
_____________________________________

My face is pale
my lips are blue
I lie dead
A life begun anew
The land still rolls
A pebble in space
Does death mean losing
in the human race?
Or is it the goal
where only winners can go?
If life has a meaning
it's to die on a pebble
and roll under ground
till new purpose
is found...
to feed the worms,
to grow new life...
beautiful flowers...
even pale and blue.
_____________________________________

A squishy, green, purple fungus,
what about it?
It's on my half foot long foot
and growing,
strong as an ox,
and tall as a turnip.
oh well, I'm hungry
are you?


soble
by Rewired

He tore it right out of me, just took his hands and dug them into my face and ripped it off. He took my will power and all good sense and extracted it, threw it in the toilet and I heard a loud splash. Then he flushed it down the commode, and I was defenseless, vulnerable, a drone. I was his puppet, a puppet he controlled mentally, by means of his eyes. He told me where to go and what to do and how to do it. He told me what I thought and what I couldn't think what I believed and didn't believe and who I was and who I would never be because that wasn't who God said I was supposed to be, but I was smarter than that, for somewhere deep inside me I knew he knew nothing, and that he was only seeking to control others outside himself because he had lost control of his own mind. By externalizing his control, he felt more secure, more at home, more in power, more right, more loved, more wanted, more needed, more sane, more special, but he was nothing but a madman who mind controlled people who sought truth and wanted a cozy place to call home. He was insane, the way he treated those kids, the way he trained their minds to be and act, the way he extorted control over them by peering into their souls and tampering with them. I just stood there, refusing to listen, refusing to merge, refusing to be a part. There is no way I can explain this, I thought, there is no way I will ever be able to explain this to anyone, if even myself. Even then I knew that I would not and could not remember unless I was truly insane, for I could not be a well-minded individual with this knowledge, with this knowing that he had bestowed upon me. The evil, vile creatures that lurked inside his head and controlled him were of his own making. They were his thought forms, his emotions, and he let them rule him, and so he'd lost control of himself... and now we were his puppets, his minds, for he had lost his own and he was as determined as he was fearful. How did he do it? Where did he get this power from? why did I know what he told us was lies while the others just followed him like robots? Oh, oh, I see. I'm a robot, too. I'm here, outside my body, watching me march as he has taught me and my peers. March, listen, or die. Hell is where you go if you disobey him or even dare to Fuck Up. Fucking Up was the most sinful thing you could do, only the foolish pursue Satan, man. I knew it was lies, I knew there was bullshit. I watched my body do these things, perform these tasks, enact these programs, and yet I was here, outside myself, watching myself. I knew then and there that I was more than my body, more than what he made me, more than the lie he had sewn me to. And I was at the mercy of no God or Devil, only more individuals who had the same potential and the same freedom and rights as I. Categories and labels and classifications are all bullshit. Rank exists, but only in the amount of knowledge one has obtained, and he still has no right over another, no right to infringe upon that individual's free will and well-being. What this man was doing was wrong, his words were lies, and this, were I was, outside the body that was me, this was real dammit, real as fucking real could ever fucking be.

It was real.

It was real.


Report on Anthem

by the CIB Man

Anthem, by Ayn Rand, portrays communism and technology as antonyms in a futuristic, medieval, totalitarian society, through the events in Equality 7-2521's life; specifically, Equality is jailed and shunned when he develops his own ideas, invents an electric light bulb, and performs biological experiments. However the fact that he makes these discoveries isn't nearly as important as the discoveries he makes about himself. Equality's findings are much more than technological advances. They are actually just representations of the real mystery that confronts Equality, the enigma of self discovery in an entirely communistic brotherhood.

Communism personifies a regressive form of society in which new ideas and technology are rarely introduced because they can only be thought of by people who are selected as thinkers. Even then the idea must be known by everyone and thought by everyone so that it is completely communal. This concept has several major failings: First, this ideology means that everyone would require the same amount of collective knowledge as everyone else. No field of study could be advanced or be specialized because then the information, and data gained would have to be known by everyone to be completely collective. Eventually the amount of knowledge would surpass a human's ability to learn it all and either no new concepts could be introduced or old ideas would have to be lost to make room for the new. Another problem is the possibility that the most intelligent people would get jobs that would restrict them from developing their own ideas (such as a street sweeper). Instead, it would put those of the least intelligence in charge of teaching and studying. This form of society would make advancement painstakingly slow or perhaps even retrogressive. One may think those who are more intelligent would be likely candidates for the jobs requiring thinking. Actually, it would likely be the opposite because those who are more intelligent are generally more creative and self expressive. This behavior would be discouraged by the teachers who also may be subconsciously fearful that someone more intelligent would embarrass them by showing superior intelligence. A final blunder in this philosophy is that the individuals who want to learn more probably will find ways to expand their knowledge, and question ideas, leading to a revolution for knowledge; specifically, Equality is not satisfied with his lot in life as a street sweeper, so he explores forbidden places in search for answers. When he finds them, he decides to share his findings, only to find that he, and his discoveries, are shunned. However he doesn't let rejection stop him. Instead, he runs into the mountains with Liberty, the woman he loves, (yet another and perhaps more powerful urge that is suppressed) following him. He challenges the wilderness to learn more and bring back his findings to those who want to learn to be individuals.

Ayn Rand equates technology with individualism. Equality's thirst for knowledge, and self expression enable him to discover more in months than the scholars had in decades. Since the beginning of the new era the society of scholars had not accomplished any significant advances beyond a candle, but alone Equality discovers electricity, and performs various other experiments. Not only does he discover electricity but he learns how to use and manipulate it, making it generate light. Also, he dissects frogs to learn about their anatomy, which is symbolic of his learning about himself. After he makes these inventions, and other various discoveries, other free thinking ideas develop. Equality, continues to fall in love with Liberty, and become his own person, separate from the rest of society. After being rejected by the council of scholars Equality moves into the forbidden mountains and is followed by Liberty. There they find a glass house, built by the people of the past, and move in. Inside are books that answer many of his questions and ends his quest for the word for self, "I". After he finds his answers he goes to share what he has learned with those who want to be individuals. All of this happens as a chain-reaction effect to the search for knowledge.

From Anthem people can perceive that individuality is one of the most important characteristics they can obtain. Humanity can't let it be taken or life shall be little more than an intricate beehive, each individual working just for the betterment of society, and never for the betterment of themselves. Communism is perhaps the greatest oppressor because it is self inflicted, enforced by peer pressure, and taught from birth. Its goal is a better society, but its side-effects are the loss of freedom, of speech, religion and individuality. "I" is a word to be cherished and used with care. To forget its significance is to forget what it means to be human.


Revolution
by Rewired

Doubtless it had just been another one of those weekends.

I was cradling my cup of Pepsi and munching on some fries bought with some money I'd borrowed from one of my friends who were at the table with me -- I'd become a mooch over the span of two years -- when me and him began talking.

He took a couple drags and flicked his cigarette against the ashtray before going for another drag. I was in one of my moods, that perpetual one that never ends, and had been grumbling about government and the twisted mechanics of society.

"You know, Fred, you're a very tiny, angry man, you know that? You sit here and contemplate the meaning of life when you should be out there living. The only pleasures in life are quick and cheap. You're never going to win trying to fight the system, mostly because the majority of the people don't care."

"Most the world population is strikingly dense and ignorant."

"True."

"So why are there intelligent people like you trying to conform to them by destroying your body with drugs?"

"I never claimed to be intelligent." He said.

"You don't have to. It shows." I replied, "I just can't sit around and watch the government control the people. By controlling them without them knowing it, they're eliminating choices that humanity has the right to systematically explore. They think that this, this around us, is all that reality is. In our tiny box we lock ourselves in, the one we call society. To escape the box, to even get some elbow room, people delve into escapisms... a six pack here, a bong there... humanity deserves better."

"What the hell are you gonna do? Start a mass retaliation against the government? There's gonna be no revolution man, because no one cares. You gotta face it and move on, live for the moment. You know what, Fred? You need to get laid. You need a cigarette. Relax." I took a mental note -- third time this week someone told me I needed a cigarette. Sixth time I was told I needed to get laid.

I just shook my head. "I can't relax when the world's gone shithouse."

"Well, Fred," he said, after peering at his watch and finishing up his cigarette, "I'd love to sit here for the rest of the night and contemplate the meaning of life with you, but I gotta get back to work. Been nice talking to ya."

"See ya later." I said as he disappeared behind the counter of Burger King.

I knew he was wrong. A revolution was on the way, and change would happen.

Everything changes eventually. And every family's always "only three meals away from a revolution." I heard that somewhere. Yet the reality of what he said couldn't be eased by the quote that had popped into my head. He'd made me question myself: was I questioning too much? Was I peering at a rose petal through a microscope, trying to analyze every detail and never stopping outside to actually smell the roses?

It appeared so.

This saddened me and angered me as much as it perplexed me.


BGM Music,

I am writing to you in regards to the bill that was sent to me. I would like to tell you why I have not yet sent you any money. First of all you sent me the wrong selection. I had specifically X-ed the box for tapes however your company sent me CD's. In this case I see no reason to send you your money for shipping and handling especially when I don't recall the rate of shipping and handling being so high in the agreement that I had signed. Furthermore I'm not sure but I believe that I could sue YOU for harassment through the mail, and for billing me for something that wasn't received. All that I am asking of you now however is for you and me to forget about this and call it even. Although I could be wrong in my view I think that it would not be very good business for you to take a fourteen year old to court over $7.24 which is not do to you. So I would like for you to discontinue my supposed membership that you claim I have. However I know that I have not sent any thing to you other than that one card which I obtained from the Boy's Life magazine that I don't believe said anything about applying to become a member of your club. Thank you for reviewing the bill that you sent me.

Dissatisfied Customer,
CIB Man

Even Words
by Rewired

I could feel myself losing it again. I felt every part of my body shaking, every pore sweating that cold sweat, every painful thought running at me at once. I had my coffee in hand. After I parked in my spot at school, I couldn't take it anymore -- I lost it, started crying. I couldn't see them, no, but I could feel their questioning, perplexed eyes drawn upon me, wondering why it was that I was acting like this. T them, this morning, everything else in the world was fine. To me reality itself was havoc. I couldn't think straight, it was like a river running through my mind, and I was nothing -- only will, and that will was aimed at directing that river within me and trying to catch a breath on a little island I once called home but hadn't been able to reach for some time due to the low tide. The flood had taken me over. I never drowned in it. I always watched it wash away all I believed in or grown to depend on or have faith in, but never had I perished by its hands. It had only given me experience and the opportunity to grow stronger through crisis.

She was leaning over me, asking me what was wrong, if I was all right, what was going on. I couldn't look at her or my sister. I just sighed, and out with the sigh I found myself voicing: "You guys need to go inside." Still perplexed, they slowly but surely opened the car doors and stepped out, closed them, and I could hear the gravel beneath their feet as they approached the school doors.

I looked up, and the world was lucid. What heightened awareness fear can give you. I slammed the car into reverse, then drive, and spun out of the school parking lot onto the road. It was a straight shot passed my house, a turn down the next street, and then a straight shot to Hades Hollow. I parked there, too, if only to think and breath, maybe gather my thoughts. I didn't know what the hell to do. No one could help me, I'd tried that so many times. Drugs would just make these delusions worse, if they were delusions, and I was beginning to doubt that hopeful theory more and more as time went on.

What exactly was happening, I did not know. I knew this: that it could not be ignored any longer. It demanded recognition, it demanded to be noticed and strived for acceptance. It beckoned me to it's doors, pleading for me to open. I refuse, and so it bursts open, nearly drowning me in thoughts and memories and half-truths and buried secrets... I don't know what to make of this. I can't explain this. Thoughts, emotions can't explain this. Words, even words cannot explain this.


Zeus
by the CIB Man

Humans had been starting to bother Zeus. First of all they were receiving too many gifts from the generous gods, and weren't praising them as much as they used to, and Zeus was a jealous and short tempered god, who was not a happy camper when he didn't get his Froot Loops and praise each morning. Second of all of them were really starting to stink up the place (they didn't have deodorant or toilets back then) and he thought it might be better smelling with a few less people. Finally, as the last draw the over pompous humans were building fires (boy did Prometheus pay for that one-the big oaf), and also attempting to climb Mount Olympus.

So Zeus said to himself " Foolish infidels, you've lived by our generousity for long enough now you will face our wrath." After he got some immortality giving Mount Olympus cookies from the cookie jar he sent for Mercury and said, "Brother of mischief, do you have any ideas on how we could make human more complicated, and yet more interesting to watch?" Finally after a few rejected ideas like, making it rain from the ground, turning wood into cheese, the ocean into jello, or having the smoke of their fire become rutabaga flavored ice cream, they hit upon a most treacherous plan. Their plan was to make a ten foot tall giant burping gerbil that was loved by humans. Then Mercury infested the poor gerbil, named George, with disease infected fleas that jumped onto the people, infecting them.

The first person to be bitten was named Ned, and he immediately started to cough and get a runny nose. He was lucky because others faired worse, such as those that got pneumonia, smokers cough, leprousy, and the Bubonic Plague- started by one big nasty flea. Other diseases didn't show up until later because they weren't very smart and bit trees, getting covered in tree sap that preserved them. While they were trapped though many became smarter and even more deadly, while they waited to be released when the tree either died or was chopped down. Thus giving us diseases like AIDs. From then on the god's never sent anything worse, but they still have to laugh to themselves every time someone sneezes.


guru
by Rewired

the quest for truth is a pointless one,
so damn the torpedoes, and have some fun
cometh thou; get high with us.
smoke a joint; hit a bong
tickle the ivories of your mind
twist and tear and burn them down
kill your brain and turn you blind.
what is it? that's not doing it for you?
march with this group of mine that follows the teachings of one
man who is his father and his fathers son
they're not really separate, but both they're the same
don't worry about it, blind fate's the game
burn Alexandrian Libraries, not enough?
follow a guy -- Jim Jones -- to Guyana and drink
Flav-or-aide mixed with cyanide
still not enough? chase after a UFO behind a meteor
don't ask why suicide is essential, dare you doubt one who knows everything?
guru here, guru there
if it's not drugs its religion
if its not religion is government
they're all corrupt
all seek to control and to seek and destroy
blind fate
I'd rather question existence for the rest of eternity than to trust
a guru
again.

Catcher, a final chapter
by the CIB Man

WELL, I guess I lied again, about not telling you anything anymore, that is. Just because that damn teacher, at Hinkley, had a problem with my language. She knew I didn't study for her exam, like every other phony bastard in the damn school. I handed Mrs. Greenly my paper with the word SHOE written across the whole page, and she exploded like a damn volcano. Man you should've heard the words coming out of her mouth, and the words that came out of mine too. I got a real kick out of that.

Now the bitch somehow finds out I've been in this looney bin and says that I've been acting rudely, and all that shit. Then that whore calls me a nut! So I start bawling like a bastard because I figure mabey this whole group of phonies will think I'm sorry or some shit like that. Instead they say I'm unstable and send me here, because they think it's the best place "for people like me". Let me tell you, I've got a place I'd like to put them.

So anyhow, after they arrive at their "great solution", they give me two days to pack and spend some time with my family. I figure this is a good thing because it will give me a chance to pack and run away. So that night, my last night at Hinkley, I pack my bags, and I get on the bus that will take me home. However instead of going home I catch another bus that takes me farther into the city of New York.

This gave me a full day of complete freedom, just like the three days of freedom I had last time after I flunked out. This time I was determined to try to grow up and enter the adult world, and boy did I really fuck things up. That first night I went into some back-alley street place called "Lou's Whiskey and Wed'n". I had 50 bucks and spent 10 on some cheap shit that tasted like a bastard, but was "Gurnteed tah fu' ya up", according to some drunk that was really plastered. After I bought a bottle I had 40 bucks left, the cost of a "wed'n". Soon I noticed this decent looking woman of about thirty, giving me this look that just said "I'm drunk, I'm horny, I like um young, let's get married and go for it." I myself was pretty gone and so we got married. I paid for the wedding cost, and she paid for a room I won't bore you with what happened next, but damn was it good! So good I can even remember it through my drunkenness.

Anyhow we woke up the next morning, hung over as hell and looking at strangers, with our marriage certificate on the night stand. After a little while most of it came back. I was surprised that she stayed around and didn't run off, but later I figured this must of happened to her before, so she wasn't too worried.

We got up at around noon, went to some coffee shop and got something to eat, she paid. During our conversation she told me that we luckily weren't actually married, and that it was just some gimmick Lou used to attract costumers. Oh, I almost forget, she told me that her name was Lucy then, although she probably also told me the night before too. Together we went back to the room and gathered our things, and she left me with a kiss that was mostly phony and yet partly with sympathy.

I then decided I had no place else to go, and so I went to the bus that would take me home. On the bus ride I thought about Jane, and Phoebe and how I wanted to be with them and go back in time with them to before that last wonderful, terrible night. The night when I lost them forever. I now know that I can never turn back and catch the people I've lost.


Skin
by Rewired

Lost my skin
didn't have a backbone to loose in the first place
my nerves are on ice
my mind is all jumbled
I'm out of my head now
there's something wrong,
I'm dying,
help me - I'm going blind
I can't break out of this mold
I escape out one mask into a new one
never any better
the outside stays the same
the same old mask, same old face, same old name
I'm so beaten down, strung-out, warped, tired
my mind is now twisted and my soul is on fire
not a truckload of your BS can wash away this mental stain
can't run off with my memories or blot our the pain
I walked on the tracks and here comes the train
pick up my pieces, rewire my brain
so here I am, rewired from the inside out
trying to get beyond what I know its not about
trying to learn some truth but can't master the mundane
can't face my own fears but I call for the rain
as it beats down on me
it helps me think
hung on a wire,
above a fire of truth
that I can gaze at but can't touch
is it just illusion?
I'm so tired.
I feel so dead.


Cults
CIB Man

When cults try to get people to join they look and pick out people who they think will be susceptible to joining the cult. Things that they look for in these people will be that they are travelers, distressed or depressed, or in some kind of transitional phase such as college. Others include "elderly persons and naive teenagers all of whom are likely to be hungry for friendliness and warmth ad looking for affiliations." The ways that people are recruited by are referred to as recruitment tactics and are common ways used by members who recruit people. When a member is recruited it is by calculated not casual means.

The first of these methods is showing concern for the "prospect". The recruiter "expresses a presumptuous familiarity with his feelings and emotional state which makes the prospect believe he is truly understood." Second is Demonstrating acute, shared interest meaning they try to portray that they have things in common with the prospect. Third is "holding eye contact, maintaining close physical proximity, "coming on" sexually." Once the recruiter becomes acquainted with the prospect they will then try to get personal information "about the prospect's current situation and concerns, problems, and stresses." If their tactics work then a bond will be formed by this sharing of information and will probably want to stay in contact with the recruiter. After this step the prospect will be deemed "ready". This step may occur in minutes or after several meetings where the prospect will be asked to attend a meeting which is often fitted to the prospect's interests.

To the prospect the recruiters seem to be very indulged with making their "friend" happy. In fact the real reason is to quickly determine if the person will be a good investment to the group. If the prospect does seem to be worthwhile they will be bestowed with concern and asked to join the group.

The reasons that a person will join a cult are because they are vulnerable for several reasons. Reason number one is stage development which is where people with few responsibilities or commitments are lured in easily because of their lack of experience plus their naivete making them open to accept easy and simple answers by cults. Also with elderly people it applies because they will often open up to recruiters who help around the house and do things with and for them.

Then there are situational factors which is when a recruiter will go after a person in a particularly stressful time in their life making them more vulnerable to a "recruiter trying to sell happiness," because of a transitional time in their life.

Next is personal background which is broken down into a few categories as follows: Socio-economic background- ex. young poor people may be more on-guard against cults than a middle income counter part because of their frequent dealings with scam artists giving them "street smarts.", Education- many cults recruit at colleges, and some are sponsored by an uninformed school administration at high schools also some cults encourage followers to become elementary teachers to influence children. Religious background- Christian vulnerability: A cult leader may take over an entire church by becoming involved in the church and becoming a religious teacher and eventually rising to becoming an important leader. Jewish vulnerability: Hebrew Christian cults recruit by "using Jewish symbols, terminology, rituals, and scripture to lure unsuspecting prospects to their version of Sabbath services, passover seders, etc., where they slowly and subtly they introduce the idea of Jesus as Lord of the Jews."

Another is family closeness which is how close a family is to one another and the amount and type of communication. Also whether the family is more democratic or authoritative can contribute or take away from a person's vulnerability.

Finally is psychological predispositions which means that some cult tactics can be very similar to those used by hypnotists meaning that good hypnotic subjects are highly susceptible to cult tactics.


Well, golly, kiddos. This is Mr G. filling in for Rewired on the end-note editorial thang. This issue was a touch different, eh? Hope you enjoyed the literary explosions that are Rewired and the CIB Man. As usual, Rewired asks that you (yes you) send in lots and lots of submissions to get us through the lean summer months... We don't want you to become total vegetables in the sun, now do we! You can send your summertime rants and raves to either the email address or the P.O. Box. Have fun!
The Gopher is (c) 1997 by Rewired. All individual items are property of their respective authors, which was just about me and Mister CIB this issue. Quotes are property of those whom we've quoted, but I'm a fucking ninny and jot down these GREAT quotes and forget the damn people who I quoted. I hereby command you, feeble-minded earthling, to send copies of this e-zine to EVERY DAMNED PERSON YOU KNOW. Send a copy of this or any other issue of the Gopher to five and a half of your friends (meaning five and a half copies to five and a half of your friends, for you non-brainers out there). Be a nice person, however, and don't alter or otherwise fuck around with anything in this document or we'll get whiny and send the Gopher swat team after you (the little fuzzy rascals travel underground and can pinpoint you anywere.... their are sorta the familiars of my friend, Gopherboy, or, as you know him, the CIB Man). Happy Trails...

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