"If you want to laff, come with me! " -- Terminator 3: The Future Is Funny
A SITE FOR SORE I'S
Whew! Sorry I'm late with this editorial, but it was such a beautiful "morning" today inside my head as I made my way through Cyberspace to the glitzy Planet Magazine e-Mansion, situated in the heart of AOLand Mall, right next to the newly opened Silicon Goatee Java-Enabled Coffee Site at No. 2001 Vinge Way. The virtual wind ruffled my pixels as I surfed in for some applet pie and a cuppa joe, but it took the bean-decompression algorithm 15 minutes just to download a single shot of caf-E-een into my bio-browser. I hit Escape, but not before the place had purged me of some cash. Annoyed, I went over to the always-adequate McDonalds.Com on Quittner e-Avenue for a simple cup of coffee v1.0 and an Arch-Humor Deluxe without Cyberbacon (I'm not "that" mature). Now I'm cybersitting in my cyberoffice on my overstuffed Black Sun chair, belching up god-knows-what from last night, gazing out over the Simmons River, and thinkin' 'bout what I'll write 'bout in this here editorial... Mebbe that new trend of CyberBillies -- those plain-speakin', traditional-like folks what come from the data-forested back hills o' the 'Net, where they've lived simply for e-generations on DARPA grants and 300 baud modulator/demodulators. Hmmm. Maybe not.
Oh look! A giant cyber-flower. It's twenty-three kilometers high, bright yellow, with a chocolate center (requires Netscape "Tazte" plug-in and associated wetware/cranial-jack). And, hey, there goes a big fat bee humming lazily by my window, smiling, doing the backstroke on the curl of a shockwave, with his googly eyes on stalks and his thick, white-gloved fingers flick, flicking, flickering. I think he's advertising sumpin'. That's OK with me!! I'll just cyber-charge it ó after all, it's only an incremental payment of $0.001 to view each Director file embedded in his multifaceted, glittery eyes!!!
Or, on the third hand, maybe I'll cyberbag this editorial and surf over to that Pauly Shore cinema retrospective that's been reproduced in real-time texture-mapped polygons at the new VRMLounge. A k00ler d00d than d00k n00kem. And while the first page is downloading to my MSIE 5.0alpha browser, I'll snag some of the Silicon Goatee's recaffeinated decaf, fire up my CD-ROM of Win99, which has just gone Master Beta, and watch my 486/33 slowly catch fire and melt down around me in client-pull, peanut-butter GIF acid-trails.
Zut alors! Tiens!! I feel my "franco-american" avatar, Cybierre, surfacing.... Ahhh, I believe he wants to swan over to GNN for some VRMLovemaking. But non! He desires an IRC chat avec une ciber-waif! Pardon, dear readers, but Cyberduty calls, and I must answer. Thus, this editorial must wait for another e-day and e-place. As Dirty Harr-E always said, "An avatar's gotta know its limitations."
Avec Beaucoup Fromages,
M. Flutterby (d.b.a. Andrew G. McCann)
CyberRedacteur of CyberPlanet CyberMagazine
CyberAugust Cyber1996
LETTERS TO THINGS FROM THE SEVENTIES
Dear The Hustle: Just think about urinals for a moment. If men didn't use them for urinating -- in other words, these objects had no "function" (other than to Marcel Duchamp, in a sense) -- yet they were still placed in restrooms, no one would ever snuggle up to them like they do. Right? Hey, and probably urinals are difficult to use in zero-gee. I mean, think about it, right? Blastoff! So, how's that for "bathroom humor," which you say you won't print? Well, I dare you to publish this letter that you made up! After all, we USofAers have the right to satisfy our electronic-information needs, whatever they may be!
Emitting Freely,
Stan Dird
"American"
Dear Wide Polyester Ties: Is this where I place a personal ad? I hope so. Here it goes: Single, lonely, blue (literally) alien, 148,000 years young, seeks silicon life form, 136,000 to 142,000, for fun and possible long-term commitment. Please send photo, universal access code, and Zeeborx scan. Must have full medical coverage and a fondness for "korn likker." Wealthy life forms welcome. No smokers, no Republicans, no shoes, no service. If you're like me, you wouldn't be writing this ad. Although this ad is long, I'm a short, brightly hued creature with a Porsche and an empty seat that's just waiting for a gorgeous blonde piece of sand who's not afraid to be seen with a pulsing, blue thingamablob.
Signed,
Box IM4U
Planet Magazine
Dear Shag Haircut: My cat, Inky, likes to sleep under my bed covers. She gets lightly damp and kneadable by morning, when I take her out and, before she cools, lift her gently by one leg and let her drip slowly onto the floor into a cat puddle. Dropping the leg I'm holding into this congealing pool, I then roll her up and massage her into a ball of pizza-dough-like consistency, maybe gently working the top of the head back into the mass, or using my thumb to push the tail into her mass with a soft goosh. Meanwhile, she's purring slightly, not waking up. Then, I roll her with a slow rocking motion onto a newspaper, carefully lifting and retaining the image of The Times's front page -- which I then read off my cat in my cozy chair. This is a great system, because it avoids the problem of Inky sitting on the newspaper every time I try to read it!
No Animals Were Harmed in the Making of This Letter,
I. Ken Danse
Staring at You Expressionlessly Through Binoculars From the Window Across the Street
Dear Quadrophonic 8-Track Stereo: What the heck IS this Windows 95 that everyone's talking about? And (while I'm at it) who's that OJ guy that's always on TV playing golf?
As If,
Wynne Doze III.I
P.S. I would just like to add that two plus two is four.
Dear Platform Shoes: I'm having trouble seeing, and I decided to come to you after experiencing a vehement personal rejection from my opti-therapist. The main problem I'm having is seeing in the dark, particularly when there is no light source of any kind -- all I see is black! A more frequent problem, though, is a dimming of the vision that occurs every time the sun goes down each evening, which then forces me to turn on the lights around the house -- just to see! Furthermore, when I'm reading late at night in bed, I'll often start to have trouble seeing the print as my eyes begin to close, and I in fact become functionally "blind" once my lids are tightly shut and I'm asleep. I do find it helps to open my eyelids completely when reading, but then I experience a "drying" feeling on my eyes which requires me to keep "blinking." My doctor tells me that all of this is "normal." Ha! And this from a so-called "scientific professional" who tells me there aren't alien structures on the moon!
Yeah, Right,
Hal A. Paynio
Roaming The Internet
Dear AMC Javelin: Please review our new book "101 Hard Ways to Remember Things Easily," published by John E. Mnemoronic Publishing Co. Inc. LP. Here's a sample for the male reader: Say you wanted to observe "Bring Your Own Mistress to Work Day" but of course didn't want to add a reminder to the To Do List on the fridge (where the old ball-and-chain might spot it). So what does our book recommend? Simple: Pierce both your palms with a sterilized nail -- the self-induced stigmata will remind you of how your wife doesn't understand you, and thereby prompt you to remember the holiday. As a bonus, the bleeding wounds will remind you to eventually go to church/temple/whatever to expiate your guilt, afterwards of course. So, now you can remember your appointments, instead of just assuming! And as the artist formerly known as Davenport couched it: "When you `assume' something, you make a(n) ass of `U' and me!"
Gloriously,
"Tote" Al Reekall
Pat Anser
Autheurs
Dear Aviator-Style Mirrored Sunglasses: As an educator, I believe that the great thing about using the Worldwide Web in the classroom is that it teaches kids how to use the Web, so that, in the future, they can use the Web.
Multi-Remedially,
Mike Roesofft
se@ttle.com
Dear Dacron Shirt: Wouldn't it be great if you could double-click on people? Y'know, and scroll through a list of what they know, taking whatever you wanted? You could even edit their "scripts," or change the order in which their assumptions load, and perhaps drag and drop any executable personality utilities you don't like into their trash. Yikes! I've changed my mind! What a terrible weapon that would be to fall into the wrong hands! Unless, of course, me and my buddies get a hold of it first....
Snickering Ominously,
A. "Tad" Bittmore
Howlin@themoon.com
Dear, Dear Editor: I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive. I am not repetitive.
I Am Not Repetitive,
I. "Ron" Ickley
Com@com.com €