From firstname.lastname@example.org Tue Jul 07 20:20:56 1998
Subject: Legume's Xday
From: Citizen Ken <email@example.com>
Date: Tue, 07 Jul 1998 23:20:56 -0400
Well, it's happened. Xday has come and gone, and we're all still here.
I'm no fool, I've seen the Ma Bell catalog in Philo's den, and I'm not
stupid enough to be disappointed that no saucers arrived.
I can't complain. I've gotten everything "Bob" Dobbs promised. I've
gotten slack, I've been treated like Dead Elvis Resurrected for the past
several years, and lord knows I've had my share of sex goddesses,
including my beautiful wife Susan, whom I'd never have met if it weren't
for my involvement with the Church of the SubGenius. I've been flown
all over America on somebody else's tab, put up in good hotels, been
fed, fucked, and fawned over. I've been on the radio, stage, and TV,
and I once beat out OJ Simpson for the front page of the Sunday paper.
My face is on buttons and bubblegum cards, and anyone in the world with
a computer can hear me spew my garbage out of their speakers at any
time, day or night. I've made great friends with great people, and I've
slapped and spat on stupid assholes. I've met freaks of every
description, and indulged in the finest chemical pleasures.
I even got triple my money back.
There were a few times when I was tempted to quit, but dammit, if
there's one thing anyone can say, it would have to be, "Dr.Legume hung
right in there until the END."
I know from the post-7am reaction of many (but by no means all) SubGenii
present at Brushwood July 5th, that some of you will still cling to
Dobbs like a tarbaby, but I personally can see no future in it at this
point. It was a GREAT JOKE, but once you get past the punchline, what's
left? Beating a dead horse?
I really didn't get to enjoy Xday as much as everyone else, I was
busting my ass the entire weekend making sure that all of you who
attended had fun. I had to deal with that goddamned dead pig (which
carried it's own curse), set up the Blood Wrestling, perform the mass
baptism, prepare the fields for the Battle of Armageddon, pull security
detail, make sure that everything was cool with Frank Barney, and chase
Bobbies away from my wife's ass. I finally got some rest about Noon on
Sunday. And all this with a dislocated knee that made every step pure
agony. But that's neither here nor there. The point is, that night,
after most everyone left, I limped up onto the stage like a hundred
times before, and strode up to the pulpit. I looked out at the empty
pavillion, littered with beer cans and butts, bits of pig brain, puke,
and broken toys. I could hear the voices of those who were disappointed
that the saucers hadn't arrived, and the voices of those who planned to
cling to the last twig of the raft until they drown. I also heard the
voices of those who had attained the slack they were promised, and were
happy that they'd had a good time out at Brushwood for four days.
I realized then that the Rupture had indeed happened that morning. Many
were saved, and many were left behind.
There was a time when I was a shy kid, a scorn-target for my peers. I
was so scared of the embarassment of rejection that I would never even
talk to a girl. I was afraid to give a verbal report in my High School
history class. When I was 21 I met a girl who I loved very much. We were
together for a few years, and then she decided (and rightly so) that I
was a loser and dumped me. My heart was broken, and I was a suicidal
wreck. I hated myself so much that I used to mutilate myself with razor
blades, and race my motorcyle throught the rain hoping that there would
be a big truck waiting around the next bend waiting to smash my body to
a pulp and let the rain wash my blood into the gutter. I was one red
cunthair away from a mass murder spree.
It was during this time that I found out about the Church of the
SubGenius. Somebody gave me a 5th generation tape of Hour of Slack #51,
which was the only thing that had made me laugh in a long time.
I played that tape to death, glad to know that there was at least one
other person who knew how fucked up the Earth can be.
I finally met that man, Ivan Stang, in 1992. It was at the Starwood
Festival, on that same patch of land that I'd be standing on six years
later. We hit it off right from Jump Street.
I saw him again a month later in Chicago at the World SubCon. This
time, I decided that it was time for me to face my demons. I got up in
front of crowd on the stage, and cut loose with a rant that lasted
either 5 minutes or an hour, that was either spectacular or sucked
I can't remember because I was pants-shitting terrified. I also went
Because of that experience, I defeated my demons, and went on to the
place I am today, a man floating in a sea of slack, a man blessed with
the most beautiful wife a man could ever want. If there is a Dobbs
somewhere, he should ENVY ME.
Thanks for my life, Doug.
I can't help but feel badly for the others, though. Those who feel
cheated. As I stood at that pulpit as Xday drifted away like dust, the
words of an old Bob Dylan song began to play in my head:
"He just walked along, alone,
with his guilt so well concealed,
and muttered underneath his breath,
'Nothing is Revealed'. "
From firstname.lastname@example.org Sat Jul 11 15:23:17 1998
Subject: GGG's reply to Legume
From: email@example.com (G. G. Gordon)
Date: Sat, 11 Jul 1998 22:23:17 GMT
On Tue, 07 Jul 1998 23:20:56 -0400, Citizen Ken
Snipped to spare him the embarrassment of reading it while sober!
Tell me you were drunk Legume or was it the mushroooms, ennyway, don't
you think it's time you read the books...I must confess that I am
bewildered by your attitude. You're there on the threshold of a new
era and you turn into Lou Douchez on me. Say it ain't so Legume, you
pussy. One letdown in your religion and you turn maudlin and
reflective. Dammit man how many times must I tell you, you don't use
your brain to think about your religion. Now take a large enamel bowl,
fill it with pleasantly hot water. Add a double tablespoon of Epsom
salts, take off your shoes and soak your feet. As soon as your
footgland starts tingling, break your own houserule and blast a bowl
As soon as the frop starts to hit take a shot of your favorite
firewater, pour another shot into your footbath, pick up Revelation X
and start at page one. As soon as you feel pleasantly woozy and your
vision blurs, let your footglands take over and give you a little
religious interpretation, but you gotta de-activate your brain before
you think about religious matters...footgland Legume, Footgland!
Buck up man, buck up!
I suggest you and Susie go out to dinner, charge it to Stang's
credit Card and have a good time. Besides just 'cos "Bob" fucked up
(big surprise there) doesn't mean the Crusade for Slack is over.
Think of those dark nights Legume, deathgoth Bobbies huddled around
their fires, think of blood and pain and terror. Think of evil fun,
scary fun, little deathboyz in leather and chains quivering in fear as
the word of Dobbs is rammed into them....Now then you'd give that all
up because the train didn't show, so to speak...dammit man the rails
are still there shining before us, stretching out into the distant
sunset, gleaming like gold. True that the celestial locomotives have
not yet pulled into the station, but the mighty juggernaut of Dobbs is
freshly fueled and loaded, up to pressure and re-armed with fresh
Bobbyblood renderings, and the Crusade must go on. Too much is ALWAYS
better than not enough. So snap put of it Legume, I don't like chewing
you out in front of the enlisted men, lurkers and shithead bobbies
but dammit man, Dobbs needs you, get back on board....thejoke only
I will expect you back on duty as soon as your shroomover goes
From firstname.lastname@example.org Sat Jul 11 21:22:56 1998
Subject: Re: GGG's reply to Legume
From: DrLegume <email@example.com>
Date: Sun, 12 Jul 1998 00:22:56 -0400
G. G. Gordon wrote:
> Tell me you were drunk Legume or was it the mushroooms, ennyway, don't
> you think it's time you read the books...I must confess that I am
> bewildered by your attitude. You're there on the threshold of a new
> era and you turn into Lou Douchez on me. Say it ain't so Legume, you
> pussy. One letdown in your religion and you turn maudlin and
Letdown? What letdown? Read it again, Gordon. I wasn't let down, I got
it ALL. The WHOLE FUCKING PIE. That post wasn't a gripe. Hell, that was
HIGH PRAISE, I just feel sorry for the poor shmoes who DIDN'T get
ruptured, the ones who feel ripped off. They ALL have had the keys to
the kingdom dangled in front of them, but only a few reached out and
Fuck those saucers, Gordon. I got MINE. Hell, you can see that. YOU
I've been thinking about this a lot over the last few days, and I tell
you this: No Eternal Reward Will Forgive Me Now For Wasting The Dawn.
Even if I want to turn my back on the church, I cannot in good
conscience turn my back on my FRIENDS.
I seriously thought Stang was going to SWITCH GEARS entirely, that he
had some master backup plan, something wierd and twisted that would make
the SubGenius Church look TAME by comparison. Maybe even start some
kind of insanely warped Christian cult...the Jesus that wants you to
FUCK. After all, the CotSG was "built on a shifting sandy beach of
hypocrisy", right? And wouldn't the next logical step be to storm OUR
WORST ENEMY'S playground, and destroy them from within?
Sweet Christ! It'd be like opening a fucking Burger King! Jesus Christ
has NAME RECOGNITION! He's a product people trust.
Maybe Earth isn't ready for this YET. But I feel it on the wind,
If Stang wants to keep this SubGenius train going for a while longer,
I'm down with him. He's my friend. He knows I'm just a phone call away
if he needs me to help him harvest souls.
Hell, if it weren't for him I might be dead. I owe him a measure for my
And I ALWAYS pay my debts.
From kevbob.AlLsPaM@ecsis.net Sat Jul 11 21:43:59 1998
Subject: Re: GGG's reply to Legume
From: "kevbob" <kevbob.AlLsPaM@ecsis.net>
Date: 12 Jul 1998 04:43:59 GMT
DrLegume <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote in article
> And I ALWAYS pay my debts.
and that 'gumey,
that is why we love, fear, admire, cower, and respect you.
forecast: "fair to middlin'"
From email@example.com Sun Jul 12 04:26:51 1998
Subject: Re: GGG's reply to Legume
From: firstname.lastname@example.org (Rev. Ivan Stang)
Date: Sun, 12 Jul 1998 05:26:51 -0600
In article <35A83A20.3DD1@bellatlantic.net>, email@example.com wrote:
> Hell, if it weren't for him I might be dead. I owe him a measure for my
> And I ALWAYS pay my debts.
That's right. You owe me a LIFE, Legume. You better fuckin' believe I'm
gonna make sure I get TOP DOLLAR for it. DOBBS taught me that.
Copyright 1998 by Rev. Ivan Stang / 1st Orthodox Stangian
MegaFisTemple Lodge of People's Covenant Church of the
Wrath of Dobbs Yeti, Resurrected / The SubGenius Foundation,Inc.
PO Box 140306 Dallas TX 75214 / Fax 214-320-1561 / PRABOB
http://www.subgenius.com -- SubSITE of Slack