From revjack@radix.net Tue Apr 14 18:32:18 1998

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Re: How I met "Bob"

From: Sketchy Albedo <revjack@radix.net>

Date: 15 Apr 1998 01:32:18 GMT

 

Reformatted for your viewing pleasure!

 

How I Met "Bob"

By 3-D Bob Diddley

 

It was in about 1988, by the old calendar. I had what was, in retrospect,

the best job I've ever "held down" (as opposed to a job holding me down).

I was the one-man night cleaning crew at the local supermarket. From the

time the store closed at 6, to midnight when the re-stocking crew arrived,

I was locked in, alone with my thoughts and a scrubbing machine. The job

required me to pass several times by the magazine and tabloid racks.

 

One night, I noticed a new magazine on the racks; "Shred" a skateboard

fanzine. Now what that mag was doing on the rack in rural Smallville,

Quebec, devoid of boards or skate culture, is a mystery best explained by

the single syllable "Bob".

 

I decided it must be my magazine, and stole it off the rack. Inside, I

found lots about skateboards which didn't really apply to me, but there

was an article about this bizarre religious cult, with a picture of our

smiling sales rep and a wonderful mandala (which graces the inside of the

Book of the SubGenius).

 

Now, my experiences with mind-altering substances had prepared me to

appreciate a mandala, but this one was different. In addition to the usual

"spiritually uplifting" icons, there was nearly everything else, all the

good and bad aspects of our void "civilization", and all done up in a

style reminiscent of one of the great artists and thinkers of this or any

other age, R. Crumb!

 

Well, I was hooked, but not so much that I was ready to send good money

away to Dallas for more information, especially when I could just steal

the next issue of Shred. No more appeared. Ever. I've not seen nor heard

of this magazine since then.

 

Forward about a year, and my lovemate was visiting her parents in

Ugh-high-ugh. They went to a bookstore clearance sale, and she spotted a

book with that same grinning goofball on the cover; The Book of the

SubGenius! She brought it back to me, the gift of a lifetime, a move which

she often seems to regret, as she hasn't yet come to grips with her own

Yeti heritage. Now, she watches helplessly as I read, excremeditate,

chuckle and guffaw at the sheer outrageous righteousness contained in this

wisest of books. My eternal, infernal gratitude to Rev. Ivan Stang and all

the others who bravely laid it out for all to see, feel, and smell.

 

I finally repented and sent my easy-come money to the Foundation, and

started my own half-assed nonchalant Church of the Final Jeopardy. I

didn't have to quit my job, as I was fired by my buttflake boss, who never

actually held a mop or broom, and didn't recognize that I was dong a

pretty good job of cleaning the store.

 

I record Old Time Fiddlers, and sell the cassettes. At one bookstore I

dealt with, I saw the mythical "Three- Fisted Tales of "Bob"". I traded a

couple of cassettes for the book, making me one of the lucky possessors of

this now out-of-print crapclassic. Some of the best and worst writing ever

put between covers!

 

I became involved with Atari computers, being the best platform for home

studio MIDI music. Through a fluke of the usual SubG variety, I discovered

that four units of the extended character set (beyond those represented on

the keyboard), when typed in the correct order, reveal a miniature face o'

"Bob"! What's this mean? Those characters were selected and burned into

Atari OS ROMs about 1984 (check out Dateline for Domination, in which it

is suggested that "Bob" owns Atari and IBM. Nowadays, Atari computers are

pretty much passe' for uses other than MIDI sequencing. But in a bleak

future when the power grid is fried, you may wish to remember that an

Atari ST can do real computing on its internal floppy drive, powered by a

12 volt battery! I know this, because I live in a house without grid

power or telephone line. We make our own electricity with a gasoline

generator and solar-voltaic panels.

 

Rev. 3-D Bob Diddley

Cherch of the Misspelled Werd

"Money goes where it's wanted, and stays where it's well-treated"

-from More Tears, CBC tv