Keeping You Abreast

From my dedication, I should tell you that Julianna and I were married at the New York New York Hotel/Casino in Las Vegas, NV, on June 20, 1998. You can still send a gift, if you believe in love! I’ve decided to share the story of how we met. It’s called “I Am A Gay Homosexual,” and appears only in the print edition. I will put up some pictures from my marriage proposal, but I want you to fucking buy the print edition and I’m going to use every means at my disposal.

Since the first issue lots of interesting things have happened related to the stories in NC1, so I’d like to bring you up to date, because I’m interested. Fuck what you want, this is my zine, baby. I will be so kind as to give you the updates in an order similar to how they appeared in NC1.

Like so many zines before me, my URL has changed. You’ll be able to find me at www.negcap.com for the remainder of this relationship, no matter how much money it loses. The web page will feature lots of outtakes from the zine, back issues, as well as previews of future issues, color pictures instead of the black and white ones you see (well, if I have time to rescan some of them from old issues, new ones will go up as the new content is added), tons of web-only content (with links where applicable), and, of course, news about what’s coming up.

My heroes at Adbusters (“Take My Word For It”) loved my zine and asked me to recreate the inside back cover (“Sosumi”) for them in color. I’m not sure when it will run, but they assure me it will. It’s like being called up to the majors when you play in little league, I swear. Getting a nice letter from them made my whole week. I sent a copy of my zine to Ron Rocheleau, the guy who does Concrete TV, my favorite public access show in the world. He and I have since become friends and I plan on playing cards with him soon. In addition, I discovered that my favorite TV Food Network guy has his own web site that is pretty goddamn cool at. Click here to check it out!

From the “Manifesto,” I should tell you that I’ve totally abandoned Tekken 2. My friend Jill was kind enough to send me an advance copy of Tekken 3, which is, without a doubt, the best game I have ever seen. I also learned recently that there is an anime movie based on Tekken that is out in Japan and is currently being translated for the American market. I’m moist just thinking about it. At this point I insist that you stop reading right now and go buy a PlayStation and Tekken 3. Really. I’ll wait right here.

Welcome back. If you want, you can play a few rounds first. Juli noticed when we first got the game that I look a little like Jin, though I am not nearly as muscular. Certainly there’s a resemblance in the hair and eyebrows, right?

In the manifesto (and in “Lit. Majors Can Kiss My Ass”) I said things like, “No one gives a shit about me or anything I’ve ever written.” Thanks to you, my loyal reader, there are actually at least nine people who do give a shit about things I’ve written and eagerly anticipate anything I may write in the future. I should buy you all a drink, or some E. I also said that everything would not be spelled out for you, but I’d like to amend that statement to “some things will not be spelled out for you.” I don’t want to be obscure and I don’t want to deliberately confuse anyone. I think one of the things that’s interesting about the zine and my writing is that I am always terribly aware of the “I” in everything. That’s why I like fiction, because I can construct something elaborate and then remove myself from it entirely. Or, I can skillfully put myself in it and then through talent and misdirection make you think I’m not in it. Anyway, the point is that I will try to be as clear as possible, but there are some things I will leave open to interpretation. Just as an example, all the layouts in NC1 actually meant something symbolic. The straight line over the manifesto was an ode to that line from Star Trek: First Contact where Picard says, “The line must be drawn here!” The oval over “Let Me Warn You” was meant to be a pill, meaning this lesson would be a hard pill to swallow. The title of “Lit. Majors Can Kiss My Ass” is deliberately designed to look like two eyes and a smile, because I was smirking as I wrote it, because, in fact, I have a BA in Literature and it was obviously my major.

In “Let Me Warn You,” I lectured extensively on English grammar and usage. Since then I’ve received a number of letters from people asking me to mention their particular pet peeve. Forget it. Do your own zine. I will, however, discuss homophones at length in Negative Capability #3, because they’re very important.

My friend Peter saw the junkie (“My Best Friend Is A Junkie!”) in NYC two days after Christmas 1997. According to Peter, X looked fine and was on a pay phone when they saw each other. They spoke briefly and Peter said he was glad when X said, “Happy New Year,” excusing him from more conversation. Pete said he saw X again a few months later and X looked healthy and happy, so perhaps my wish has come true. Even though he was a tremendous disappointment to me as a person, I never wished him harm. I have a lot of fond memories of our friendship and I miss him sometimes.

Because of the structure of my drug story I wasn’t able to discuss Special K, which is the street name for Ketamine, an animal tranquilizer used as a drug by idiots like me. I’ve decided to tell that story in my next issue because my wife and I are going to honeymoon for two weeks in London and Amsterdam so we can get our fill of accents and illicit substances, respectively. We plan on doing lots of stuff while there, so the story will be contained in “Lost in the K-Hole,” coming in NC3.

Last time I told you how “I Enjoy Being A Girl” and it’s still true. I should have mentioned that CrOWley and Fozz both live with the junkie because sometimes we would allow some of our monkeys to visit with each other for extended periods of time. In addition, I have to mention that I wanted to get Fozz’s burn fixed and whenever I would visit the junkie I would throw a few bucks into a bucket that Fozz had. There is a lovely place here in NYC called the NY Doll Hospital (est. 1900) that repairs and restores monkeys and we always promised Fozz that once he had enough money we’d get his burn fixed. Last time I saw Fozz he had $35 and was wearing a red felt fez. Hey, junkie, if you’re reading this, please get Fozz fixed and tell t., Ms. Bunnie, Norm, Fozz, Odie, CrOWley and the others that I miss them and wish them well. Lurky says hello, though he was very angry at you for a long time for disappointing me, he says you’re forgiven. You know how good that is, though. If he ever sees you he’ll probably give you a hug and then kick you in the shins. Oh, well.

As for “How To Tell If It Is Time To Get Married” I took the quiz and decided it was time. Besides, Juli hates Barbra Streisand and Glenn Close (my new father-in-law always says of Ms. Close, “Why do they keep putting a wig on that guy?”) and would never stand for a twin bed. She also thinks that my zine/haircut/friends/lifestyle are cool, so there. If you want to see some of our wedding pictures, please click here and check them out.

From “More Savant Than Idiot,” I should tell you that the writers and the host have returned to stand-up comedy in NYC and I actually saw the guy that played the Brain sitting next to me in a comedy club one night. If you liked the show, one of the many prizes in this issue’s contest (which is closed, sorry!) is a tape of my entire run on the show, so if you want to see me live on tape, enter the contest! In addition, Joel Stein, the other contestant that I liked so much, now writes for Time magazine. Now that’s progress. Way to sell out, Joel!

With regards to “Just To Prove A Point,” (the thing with my picture) it was done for one simple reason. I had recently read Socially Fucking Retarded (great title, by the way) that was about the Killzine tour. I would say that 95% of the zinesters pictured were hideous human trainwrecks who never show pictures of themselves for a good reason. I just wanted people to know that I’m angry because I’m angry, not because I’m ugly. I have a very normal social life, a few close friends and do the zine because I have lots to say—not because I’m a lonely shut-in living in someone’s basement. In addition, I entered the Royal Fest (which is why some mistakes got in—I rushed it to the printer so I could enter) and won Best New Zine.

The reason I mention it is that most of the people there, whether speakers or just in the audience, were fugly, slow and painfully sad. I am one of them because I do a zine, not because I live under a bridge.

As for Priscilla (“My Life as a Pedophile...”), I don’t think she has any interest in writing for the zine at this time because she isn’t all that confident and I will respect her wishes. I talk to her online sometimes and she’s very excited about my work, which is cool. I have a few pictures of her, but I refuse to run any because I don’t want anyone to bother her. She’s a sweetie and I’m glad I know her. She also told me that Jason, the asshole I spent all that time fucking with, has decided to take some courses at a community college. Last time I looked, the place where I got the model’s pics was back on AOL at keyword: Wilhelmina. If you want to see hot chicks in sheer clothes, go now!

Until recently I was still getting some interesting e-mail from people who want to bang Anastasia (my hot chick identity which is on the right, unless you’re one of those people who pretends to have dyslexia, in which case I cannot guarantee which side it’s on), including a picture and letter from “The Pali,” who is a creepy, greasy, freaky-looking mutant who is in a band. I asked for a picture and I got this one of him (see below left) and his devil dog and another of him fondling some skanky chicks. I’m showing them because he has a tattoo of a snake’s head all over his hairy, vile chest. He also sent the other one you see (below right) where he’s fondling some chicks. It was because of him and his letters that I decided I’d had enough of all the losers so I finally canceled the account. I’m still on AOL, but it’s on my brother’s account and I hardly ever use it. So, you’re chances of banging this hot chick are about slim to none and slim left town. Her real name is Cheryl and I’ve had sex with her a hundred times.

I also got a letter from “Boodak,” a hot little poetess, which I’ll run without corrections of any kind:

Hi ana I am a poet and I write very sexual erotic poems, and they may make you very wet. However there in good taste, they will however have you touching yourself, If you would like one e-mail me and let me know. I am a female.

You wish I was making this up, don’t you? Of course, I had to have her poem. She is actually pretty talented. Bwa ha hahaha!

A poem for ana so sweet, so sexy and ready to eat.
As you sit on my bed we press together our lips,
as you pull me closer on to your hips.
I unbutton your top and kiss your breast,
as you beg me to hurry and give you the rest
as I undo your belt and drop your jeans,
your pussy is on fire it seems.
as you take my head and direct it down to your box,
you kick as squirm and off fall your sox.
this pussy so sweet the taste so tender
as you lay there helpless reader to surrender.
As my tongue goes deep into you clit,
you scream and scream please dont quit.
Then all of a sudden you yell as I want to do the same
as you shake all over oh my god you just came.
by Boodak@aol.com
(reprinted as a mockery, without permission)

I got two of the most retarded letters I have ever seen in my entire life from a mutant named Mike. (If you don’t believe this guy is for real, I encourage all of you to write to any of these people yourself and decide on your own. I use everyone’s real screenname and all my claims are open to your scrutiny because I’m psychotically honest.) His screenname is “GMan5511” and he is not kidding when he says he’s not that attractive. The best way to read this is to just sound out the words, figure out what they sound like, and go from there. The context may help in some cases, but mostly it will confuse you. Here’s the first one:

hi how said thaat u do not have breteir eyes than kliobatra and your eye shadwos dezain to fit around your beautiful eyes iam mike iam not all that atractive but i cant help looking at your pic and admair your beauty u are verey sexsy ladie as far as man any man wish is to be next to u and as far as me i love to be aqll around u dreaming in your eyes and amink to satsfay u and hold your hands and feel the sftnis in the i love to heir from u and get to know u

Well, just like you I had to see more. I wrote back saying that I wasn’t shallow and that I really like a guy who is sweet and honest, like my man Mike. He wrote again...

hallo and how is your day i hope it is wendarfull i was thinking of u when i reseved your IM . IAM FROM nj Ibeen heir for the past 23 years i came from jrusalem and thaT is wear i was born i am devorced no kids life it has been verey rewarding to me i did not get to finsh my school but iwas luckey busniss man i did verey will for my selfe in life wher iam comfrtable i love pepol ilike fishing travling ihave been in lots of places in the world ilike to make my ladie feel verey spcail and wanted iam romantic in my way s ilike the old fashein ways iam 39 years old time flays with out u relaising it flaing if u like to call me my NO telephon NO IS 973 472 0309 all thoht ilike to be the gantil man and call u if u like to give me your no pl im me or we can chat i mait be in line to night after 11 pm with all my best wishis i wish u will and best of luck pl never maind my spling it is extremly bad

I swear on my own eyes, on the lives of everyone I love, that this has been cut and pasted directly from his letter. I honestly have no fucking idea how it is that this man functions in society. He has AOL for fuck’s sake! Not only that, but he owns his own business! Thanks are due to Steve Case, king of the assholes and CEO of AOL, for making the internet accessible to Mike, we all needed him! I’m going to leave his phone number in because I am a prick. I guess the only things not surprising are that 1) he’s from New Jersey and 2) he really thinks that mentioning this state will improve his chances of getting a date. Don’t think that he knows I’m in NYC, either, because according to my profile I live in Hawaii! I mean, do you think he can even read a sign? Of course, my favorite line is “Never maind my spling it is extremly bad” because never before has anyone been so right about anything.

I also want to tell you that my friend Howard Miller of the excellent zine Travelling Shoes analyzed the letter and Arabic writing on the wall and came to a few conclusions. One, Mike’s real name is probably Mohammed, but he’s Americanized as best he can. Two, the writing on the wall is from the Koran and is something banal. Three, it is common for people from the Middle East to substitute “b” for “p” because they have no such letter, so “breiter” is not “brighter” as I thought, but more likely “prettier,” which my man Mike tried his best to spell phonetically. Thanks, Howard! And you thought that Ph.D. work at Yale was all for nothing!

Nici Sterling, my porn star pal, disappeared without a trace. Her AOL account was canceled and all of my attempts to contact her again failed miserably. She does have her own web site at www.nicisterling.com but you have to pay for the good stuff.

In the “Eighth and Ninth Circles of Hell” I attacked a lot of fuckwit douchebag cocksuckers who deserved it. Luckily for all of us, Cybill’s been canceled, which puts Christine “Cunt” Baranski out of work for a little while, but I have some other news. I really like the TV show Law & Order (see “The Profaci Game,” pg. 30 of the print edition, or click here to see it on the web), and I realized that one of the many reasons I hate Christine is that she’s played a cunt lawyer on that show a few times. In addition, her husband is a bad actor who’s been on Law & Order as a homeless, schizophrenic loser called “Lemonhead.” Sometimes dreams do come true.

It’s been wonderful seeing Microsoft getting hassled by the Feds and the individual states. Also, butt nugget Bill Gates lost a few billion dollars when the stock market took a big hit and he is still hideously ugly. In addition, Captain Cocksucker did a demo of Windows 98 for some geeks recently and let me tell you, it was the funniest goddamn thing ever. He always talks about how Windows makes PCs simple, efficient and plug-and-play, like Macs have been for a decade. In his nasally, whiny voice he explained how, with Windows 98, you could plug in a scanner while you were working and could just start scanning without having to restart. Then he plugged in the scanner and crashed the whole fucking computer! Bill Maher’s ratings continue to slide and trust me when I tell you that I will easily outlast his show with this zine. Fuck you, Bill Maher!

In my review section of cover albums (“Cover This”) I reviewed most of what I had. Since then I’ve decided that covers could be my “thing” and I’ll post reviews of cover and tribute CDs as I get them, but only on my web site. In print, I would prefer to break new ground. On the web, everything old is new again, but they don’t call it recycling, it’s called “repurposing content.” The jews weren’t thrown into ovens at Dachau, they were “re-heated.”

In “How to Cope With Assholes” I talked about a few methods for pissing off bitches who like to wear dead animals and I actually thought of the best method ever, by chance, this past winter. I was walking behind this disturbingly ugly, fat, old woman with long nails, a bad wig, a cloud of perfume around her and the skinned corpses of fifty small animals draped over her scaly skin. At the time I was enjoying a few pieces of gum and I realized that I could spit my gum right into her fur and by the time she noticed it, the gum would be well entrenched. So I wound up, told Juli to watch and then I spit this huge wad of red gum right into the back of her coat, where it stuck to the fur. I hope I ruined the coat for her or cost her a lot of time and trouble getting the gum out.

As for “Same Bat Time...” I have decided that some stories will have to wait for the next issue and some will appear in this one, though possibly in a different form than I anticipated. That’s how the world works-sometimes you get what you expect, sometimes you get something better. Be glad I’m the latter, sweetie. So, here’s what I have for the following promised stories. “How Disney Ruined Winnie the Pooh” just has a title because I was unmotivated to do all of the research. The working title is “Defrost Dead Disney So He Can Suck My Dick,” but I need to broaden the scope beyond Pooh. That’s coming next time.

I had intended to do a photo essay about combovers, but to be honest, it’s not that great. Just imagine a bunch of pictures of bad combovers and rugs with the title, “You’re Not Fooling Anyone, Baldy” across the top in a serif font and there, I’m off the hook. “Psychotic Euphemisms for Sex” got dropped ‘cause I only had three: parking the pink mustang down a sidestreet, taming the wombat and my wife’s current favorite, “unleashing the manimal while letting loose the wolf pack.” The reviews of bootleg and illegal CDs got bumped in favor of “The Flicker of the Idiot Box” which will be continued in the next issue. People (especially me) enjoy reading reviews if they do two things: tell us about something we don’t know about and give us a funny opinion of that thing. I can always do that, so the subject really shouldn’t matter. This issue it’s mostly about weird videos and next time it’ll mostly be about music videos. “Pile on the Rejection” has been put off because I’m not sure what to do. I mean, I’ve got literally dozens of rejection letters from all kinds of people but I’m not sure how I should frame them, so until I get a good idea, you’ll just have to imagine it.

I’ve decided to combine the “useless information trapped in my head” and the new contest to make “Keeping It Hard For An Hour.” [The contest is now closed, sorry!] I’ve decided against zine parodies because there are so few zines that are both good and original and I’d like to be more than just another zine so the only zine I’ll parody in these pages is mine. If I’m to compete with regular magazines and other zines, I’m going to play to win. I will, however, offer insight and criticism of zines on my web pages, where the reviews will endure and get a wider audience. It’s just that there are already plenty of great zine review zines out there and I’ll leave them to their work. It would also be much appreciated if any zine review zines would stay out of wishing cancer on people because that’s my area of expertise, kids. I was going to do a story about my new job, but I’ve since lost it. Maybe next time. It looks like I may have something lined up, but I won’t jinx it. (As a brief update, I did get this job but couldn’t keep it for a number of reasons. I’ve since gotten a new job, but I still have big plans for your money so please send some in today.)

My tribute to Bill Hicks will be coming next issue but was postponed for a good reason: I’ve decided to do an overview of all the different Bill Hicks products and merchandise that you can get for yourself and there are a few I’m waiting to get so I can include them. I’ve seen lots of Bill Hicks’s material and some of it isn’t all that great, so I want to make sure I point people toward his best work, so he can be remembered as he should be remembered: as a prophet who was taken from this world too soon.

From “Sosumi” I’d also like to mention that Ronald McDonald, the child molester from Washington state, was convicted of molesting kids and is now in jail. Now if only we could get the fucking clown McDonald in jail then he’d know what meat really is. And now, let’s move on to something new, shall we?