From: blackmer@course1.harvard.edu (John Blackmer)

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Gay Wiccan Hippies

Date: 23 May 1996 04:50:46 GMT

Organization: Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts

So I read this post on alt.gothic (everyone's favourite troll ng) about

this group called the "dark elves" who are going to "short mountain

sanctuary" for Beltane and I said what's Short Mountain, and this guy

BlackElf says "It's this commune in the middle of bumfuck tenessee for

gay wiccan hippies, munks, zunks and freekazoids. There's lots of

dionysian ritual shrieking and shapechanging and stuff, and men fucking

each other in public for about two weeks." Sounds great I said, I was

already enamored of the dark elves' beautiful website and philosophy and

I figgered if they were going to be there, I was going to be there. So I

post on the Radical Faerie Listserv that I need a ride to Short Mountain

and this guy Nick offers me a ride if I can get to Ithaca, NY in twelve

hours. So twenty minutes later I'm on the highway sticking my thumb out.

The first five hours I got no rides and had some laughs dodging about a

million cops, with "Bob" floating over my ear laughing the whole way. I

leaped over fences and hid under bridges, set off sirens and walked on

train tracks. I ended up walking about 15 miles. But then I

figured out a trick and made it there only three hours late, but on the

way because of the trick I ended up puking last night's dinner, onions

and tomatoes still whole, on the grass by a pond with the plonky "bonk

bonk" of geese tuning to ack hack as my guts turned inside out... I must

say I'd never thrown up from sheer volume of () before and as I stood

back up I my heart leapt for joy green bushes dancing at my feet. Next

ride turned out to be two smiling Mexicans who I thought were going to

be Irishmen and shut me in the back of their truck and sped finally down

the highway after so long waiting hiding watching, and went a good 70

miles at least as the loving sun rose behind us turning everything to

hopping green trees and rippling azure sky. For my next ride I saw the

sign of the Devil, which I thought was cops but turned out to be just a

pink suburban guy. There should be signs for little devils and big ones.

Then came an obese and shifty carnival foreman with the longest nose

hairs I've ever seen, and a romp through a swamp to bypass a tollbooth,

where I saw a doe, newly dead and fallen in the mud. It's eyes were

barely glazed but it let a fly crawl up its nose. I said a prayer for

it, and when I left the swamp there were lovely concrete aqueducts to

crawl through.

I got a quick ride on the on ramp from a pilot who told me about his

kids, and then a happy happy journey with a beautiful and really dumb truck

fixing guy, who made me hop and laugh and go doy doy dah duh all down

the ramp when I got out from how bootiful he was. Did you ever notice

how really stupid people are the most wonderful ones in the Queen's

Universe, because when you tell them a lie about the world they just

automatically believe it and it just makes you want to kiss them? I told

him that fixing trucks was a really cool thing and he said yeah, I guess

it is pretty cool and got this dumb smile on his face and I knew he was

Jesus Christ.

Next was a man in his 50's who reminded me of R Crumb and scared me and

bought me wonderful clam chowder lunch, which I ate fearing he wouldn't

pay for it and being eyed by a trucker with a lopsided jaw. I thought

about ditching the ol' scary, but hung on hung on. He was probably just a

Subgenius. I hate Subgeniuses. I wish the world was all Subgeniuses so I

could do nothing but hate and fear and slack all day. For some reason I

told him I was studying to be a commercial artist, and he made me prove

it. "Draw me a stump for my stump business!" It was the most

silly-looking stump you ever saw, but he acted like it was just the

greatest and had me meet his giant bearded hulking friend. They asked me

to go to the casino with them but I was too skeered, they kept lookin' at

me with them evil Subgenius eyes that see through walls like no decent

human being ever will. When I got out of their car I just knew they

thought me the greatest fool but I was free, their opinions were gone, I

laughed my head off all over again and jumped up and down on the side of

the highway and promptly got picked up by a cop. He said I smelt like

beer but let me go after I told him how I always wanted to be a police

ossifer and they're so brave and I watch COPS every 5 seconds and all.

Next was this really old guy who knew about disappearing trees and

whirligig machines. He took me to Cortland NY which is hick town of hick

towns, and I got called "Fonzie". Guess they never saw a hitchhiker

before, but finally I got a ride from this stickybrick hick and arrived

in Ithaca at last. Did you know that Coke actually has special po'bucker

commercials for country stations? Give me a cold coca cola and a five

minute break, cause I'm a hard workin' woman in a workin' class town blah

blah blah.

So anyway he drives me to tennessee and turns out to be a complete gimp

who spendsthe

whole gathering wandering around in his walkman listening to the same

smashing punkins tape over and over and begging yours truly and other

young boys to let him fuck them in the ass and give him hugs. Tells them

all he loves them and looks in their eyes like a 250 pound hurt puppy who

has a huge collection of tie-dye shirts so he can convince young boys

that he is actually young and hip on the inside. Apparently it works

sometimes because he tells me there is a boy of 19 from Missouri whom he

met on the internet who likes him. "Bob" knows why because his

personality consists of agreeing with everything said by the nearest cute

boy in the most obvious way. But it was fun beating him with the belt and

making him eat the shits of his beloved dog Princess.

Who the fuck names their dog Princess? Well anyway the first guy I meet

is named Ghostwolf and has a blue mohawk, doesn't believe in buildings

and walks around in this loincloth with no butt on sunny days.

While I was sitting in this hammock taking notes on my surroundings, I was

approached by a lovely old pedophile, maybe sixty, who gave me some

frappy to say hello. (Editors note: frappy and 'frop are NOT the same

thing and donchew forget it you old vagina-faced slackless fartsuckers)

There are snunking goats here and chickens, and naked men walking

around all over the place. You can pee on the goats and they will lick it

and then look all disgusted and run sheepishly away. Right there is a man

with a tie-dye shirt that reaches to his waist and nothing at all else on.

One queen just now got called Auntie Histamine, and over there there was a

group YOO-HOO like a group OM except falsetto. The guy in the hammock

behind me keeps farting out his bare ass and reading the newspaper.

There's a queen who's proclaimed herself the Temple Whore, Incarnation

of She that is All, and announced at circle that she will accept

offerings and donations for sex and healing from her exalted Self. I'm a little

nervous to go sit in the circle, so I play frisbee with ghostwolf anda

boy covered in green body paint.

My memory of the events of the middle of the gathering is a bit hazy as

is typical of journeys into High Weirdness. The best I can do is show you

what I wrote down. I was trying to relate what was going on around me,

but it came out like this:

Okay, this is a PUBLIC LIBRARY, okay? One does NOT bring handfuls of

bugs conveniently shaped like letters and start flinging them around on

computer screens so they can leak out all over everything! People pay

GOOD REAL GREEN TAX MONEY to use this place, and if you're going to

persist in that kind of behavior I will FUMIGATE your ass all the way to

the Pentagon! You ought to be LOCKED UP in an AIRTIGHT CELL so not

even your sneaky little "vapours" and "essences" and "auric vibes" and

"flying razor snurgs" can get out, and ruin the lives and wardrobes,

complexion and sanities of hapless citizens just trying to do what's right! DON'T

YOU KNOW materializing hordes of rabid insects through virtual

psychokinesis is a FELONY? Don't you have any respect for entymological

DECENCY? You may WISH that your little minions were forming up in

coherent words and sentences in accordance with local product codes,

but it's ALL SPAGHETTIOES TO THE LAW!

The best you're gonna get for this kind of MALICIOUS SPAGHETTIMONGERING

is LIFE IMPRISONMENT in a cell made out of SHIT, while maggots made

out of your dick EAT YOUR FACE OFF FOREVER! So DON'T DO IT AGAIN!