From drlegume@bellatlantic.net Tue Jul 07 20:20:56 1998

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Legume's Xday

From: Citizen Ken <drlegume@bellatlantic.net>

Date: Tue, 07 Jul 1998 23:20:56 -0400

CC: i.stang@subgenius.com

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

badly.

I can't remember because I was pants-shitting terrified. I also went

blind.

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'. "

Ken Narouski

From gggor@io.com Sat Jul 11 15:23:17 1998

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: GGG's reply to Legume

From: gggor@io.com (G. G. Gordon)

Date: Sat, 11 Jul 1998 22:23:17 GMT

On Tue, 07 Jul 1998 23:20:56 -0400, Citizen Ken

<drlegume@bellatlantic.net> wrote:

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

of frop.

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

gets funnier!

I will expect you back on duty as soon as your shroomover goes

away.

From drlegume@bellatlantic.net Sat Jul 11 21:22:56 1998

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Re: GGG's reply to Legume

From: DrLegume <drlegume@bellatlantic.net>

Date: Sun, 12 Jul 1998 00:22:56 -0400

CC: GGGordon@subgenius.com

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

> reflective.

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

took them.

Fuck those saucers, Gordon. I got MINE. Hell, you can see that. YOU

KNOW.

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,

Gordon.

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

slack.

And I ALWAYS pay my debts.

Legume

From kevbob.AlLsPaM@ecsis.net Sat Jul 11 21:43:59 1998

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Re: GGG's reply to Legume

From: "kevbob" <kevbob.AlLsPaM@ecsis.net>

Date: 12 Jul 1998 04:43:59 GMT

DrLegume <drlegume@bellatlantic.net> wrote in article

<35A83A20.3DD1@bellatlantic.net>...

> 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 i.stang@subgenius.com Sun Jul 12 04:26:51 1998

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Re: GGG's reply to Legume

From: i.stang@subgenius.com (Rev. Ivan Stang)

Date: Sun, 12 Jul 1998 05:26:51 -0600

In article <35A83A20.3DD1@bellatlantic.net>, drlegume@bellatlantic.net wrote:

> Hell, if it weren't for him I might be dead. I owe him a measure for my

> slack.

> 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.

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