Here's a screen-cap as an excuse:
to put up the text to my newest zine.

Promise I'll do more with this later.

marco

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    Live! From in between "Adbusters" and "Against 
    Sleep" it's ATI - Activist Times, Intentional
    
    [ref]=[http://www.kwsnet.com/altzines.html]
    
    (A) (C) (T) (I) (V) (I) (S) (T) - (T) (I) (M) (E) (S)
     (A) (C) (T) (I) (V) (I)(S) (T) - (T) (I) (M)(E) (S)
      (A)(C)(T) (I) (V) (I) (S) (T) - (T) (I)(M) (E) (S)
       (A) (C) (T) (I) (V) (I)(S)(T) - (T)(I)(M)(E)(S)
    
    
    Bear with us while we learn how to VIM.
    
    
             |        o
    ,---.    |---     .
    ,---|    |        |
    `---^    `---'    `
    
    My friend Joyce planned a Sunday afternoon service
    leading up to a reunion of local SOAW people where
    we can all share discernment, pictures, thoughts,
    etc.
      One thing I must remark about. There were four
    large pictures to my right leaned up against all
    the stained glass windows. Front to back it went,
    Denise, Cynthia, Carole, and Addie Mae. Along the
    left it was Ita, Sr. Dorothy, Maura and Jean.
      Wow!
      OK, I knew most of this in my head all along, 
    but seeing them all lined up like that hit me on 
    many new levels all at once. Wow. Denise McNair,
    Cynthia Wesley, Carole Robertson and Addie Mae
    Collins were blown up in the 16th Street Baptist
    church. Ita Ford, Sr. Dorothy Kazel, Sr. Maura 
    Clarke and Jean Donovan were raped and murdered
    in El Salvador.
      I wonder what differences there are between the
    Klan and SOA graduates???
    
     
    
    
    GROUND HOGGISH DAY
    
    7:44 am, 9jan03. Thursday.
    
    My own personal "ground hog day"
    
    Hooray!!! Spring is here.
      Sorta.
      This is that first day of the year when I wake up
    at 6, 7 or 8am and DON'T try to, want to or insist
    upon going back to sleep until 8, 10 or 12.
      I could either jump right up or do my grampa's
    old trick of staring straight up at the ceiling or
    sky for 5 or 10 minutes preparing to start my day.
      I call this "Ground Hoggish" day. This can hit
    anywhere from January to May and I can guage my
    entire upcoming year by it. 
      Yup, I'm going to have a splendid year, despite
    you, George, OR YOUR FATHER H WALKER BUSH..
    You and your damned fascism ring.
    
    
      
    
    
    
    
    DEPART MENT: Store Blues
    
      (CON'T From 340)
    
      A story in three parts. 
    1) ati 340
    2) ati 341
    3) ati 342
    
      "Let's try a 38 short, the man suggested. Polite I smiled  
    and waited for the magic to happen. I never wore that suit 
    to other proms, but it went with me to a quite a few of the
    obligatory homecomings, and years later I used the vest in 
    three different rock and roll bands as part of my "duds."
      I thought of all these things on my way home from Caldor 
    that day. This story's been edited three times now. One 
    publisher suggested I remove from here that I cried all
    the way home from Caldors once more, but a more sublime
    memorial kind of cry -- while pondering all these things.
    It wasn't published with that change, and it was actually
    published two other places, once without it, once with.
      I waited til now to recycle it into my weekly 'zine
    because I wanted to wait and see if its part of the
    "american dream" was really dead, and/or would remain
    dead, and sure enough not only is it dead as a doornail
    as we go into the worst last week of the year in three
    decades, but it's kind of zombified like the walking dead.
      38short. I think I'm a 42reg and sometimes a 42short 
    now. We get wider, not taller when we get old, don't we?
    But I almost wouldn't know. The only reasons I'll wear 
    blazers these days are when I'm playing classical guitar
    and perhaps when I'm addressing a judge. Yeah, I put on
    my best dumpster-dived suit, and let-me-tell-you, I've
    got a few of them. Good lookers too. Amazing what you
    find the day after Christmas, and the day after each
    final exam, isn't it??? My favorite blazer these days
    is actually a tux I bought for $15 at a St Vinneys.
      So as I write this new ending to this very old tale
    of shame and degredation, greed and avarice, loathe
    and graft, honest hard work, and getting almost nowhere, 
    I ponder all these things minus the tears and begin to
    think I'm just a little jaded. We all deserve this
    economic down-tic don't we? Is this what we get for
    building phases I and II at the end of the Clinton
    Administration, and continuing on to phase II's and
    III's ignoring all the indicators? Isn't this what we
    get for letting both Gore AND Bush fool us into thinking
    "Happy Days Are Here Again?" Aren't we clear on how
    violent each of our comfort(s) at the expense of so 
    many thousands of others' suffering(s)? 
      We're not?
      Uh oh.
      Maybe I SHOULD go into detailing my under-table 
    Elks Club job when I was 15 afterall. Yeah, sure.
    What have I got to lose except my ability to land 
    a job at a place like ClearChannel, 3Com, Hooters,
    Verio or one of the State Lotteries, right?
      So shortly after turning 15 I really wanted more
    in life than what mowing lawns, and slinging papers
    could get me. I was already doing both. Trust me,
    those years, that just wasn't enough. A teenager
    needs things... and lots of them. So my dad had a 
    friend with an ever-renewable contract doing foods
    at an Elks Club. Totally on the Hush-Hush. The QT.
    Like Skull&Bones or something! I would be paid 
    double the minimum wage, but cash, so it just may
    have been the most I've ever made in my life until
    5 or 6 years ago. At least the most per hour, right?
    So I washed dishes, set tables, flirted with waitresses
    who were much too old for me, and drank way too many
    Long Island Ice Teas at the end of each shift, for
    free.
      What did I learn there? Way too much. You learn
    a lot in the world while cheating and letting others
    cheat through you.
    
      (To Be CON'T In 342)
    
    
    
         *************
         hey hey hey,
         it's ATI !!!
         ************
    
    
    a BROADSIDE
    
    New verse to add
    To an old song
    
    One a these days 
    And it won't be long
    You gonna see
    Whatcha doin' is wrong
    
    Cause Pharaoah's army 
    God drownded
    Oh Mary
    Dontcha weep
    
    
     
          /I ' D    R A T H E R/
         /B E   R E A D I N G /
        / A C T I V I S T    /
       /T I M E S ,  I N C  /
     
    
    
    We end with a poetical jaunt:
    
    DayHealthWorkChildFare
    
    a haiku'ish
    
    Even people she don't know
    Battle fiercely on her behalf
    That's how it's supposed to be
    
    
    NEW INSTRUCTS:
    
    [ mdaemon @ franklins.net ? ]
    
    /free/  /subscription?/ /send/
    SUBSCRIBE ATI    /to/a
    listserver@franklins.net
    
    Click on the homepage at:
    http://flag.blackened.net/ati/zine/infomaniack.html
    
    http://www.angelfire.com/wi/kokopeli/cygnus.html
    for back issues and to order hats shirts, lunch
    boxes. Hurry there's only  _00_  left!
    
    Call 860-887-2600 ext. 5293 to hollar 
    
    And remember, 
    2morrow is 
    International 
    Close The SOA Day,
    So get out there and thank Rengel (sp?) for
    his tactics. Who'd'a thought!
    
    
    [ this issue dedicated to Joyce Ellwanger ]
    
    Soon probably another prisoner of conscience.
    
    "How can I keep from singing."
    
    
               
                     a dress all lettuce 2: 
                         ati@etext.org
               
    
    
    
    (the end)
    (A) (C) (T) (I) (V) (I) (S) (T) - (T) (I) (M) (E) (S)

    (((i)))

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