neometropolis-0x05

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Contents

Why do we listen to this shmo?

Brian Rideout Pupate (fiction) 2

Vera Searles A Spur in the Eye (fiction) 15

John Jacobs Port 67 Excerpt (fiction) 19

Marina Lee Sable Prophecy (poetry) 31

Greg Beatty Recycling (fiction) 32

Jason Earls Google Primes (article) 34

Darren Franz Living Doll (fiction) 36

Darren Speegle Ascend the Seasoning Son (fiction) 41

John St. John Abyss Meditation (article) 46

Neometropolis is:

John Jacobs - Editor, Webmaster, Dib Look-alike

Tim & Pete - Assistant Editor/Chatboard Moderator

Daryll, David & David, Holly – Secret Police, I mean Chatboard

Moderator

publication may be retransmitted or redistributed, electronically or

otherwise, without the express consent of its respective author.

NEOMETROPOLIS

WHY DO WE LISTEN TO THIS SHMO?

Just a few things real quick. First and foremost, I’d like to thank everyone who

contributed this time around. My budget wasn’t as forgiving as I’d have liked but I

did the best I could to keep this issue packed with goodies. YOU people are

Neometropolis, not me.

Secondly, if you haven’t checked out the messageboard yet then you should do

so and get in on some of the mullet-loving, goatse.cx-esque conversations that

await you there. You don’t know what you’re missing out on if you haven’t gone

there yet!

http://www.neometropolis.com/msgboard

Thirdly, I would like to dedicate this issue to Cruciform Injection, a mind-blowing

electronic/industrial group from Chi-town whose music will provide you with the

perfect ambience while you are reading your fresh new copy of Neometropolis

Magazine ©®™.

http://www.cruciforminjection.com/

On with the show!

- John, 6/13/05

Issue # 0X05, 06/2005 -1- http://www.neometropolis.com

NEOMETROPOLIS

PUPATE

Brian Rideout

They sent her to the institute pretty much straight from the hospital. The report I

got listed the contents of her stomach when they brought her in... a lightbulb, old-

fashioned fuses for electrical systems in houses, the motherboard of a computer

that she actually cut up into little bits with a fork and knife, pages from copies of

The History of The Communist Party of the U.S.S.R. (Page 12 from every annual

reprinting in the 1970's.), some telephone wire, and a few dozen metres of audio

tape... minus the plastic casing. When she was younger she had pretty much

ground her teeth down into nothing and they were all capped with that extra

strong chemical enamel. She could bite through nearly anything. The officer who

arrested her said she had actually gnawed her way out of a pair of handcuffs.

She wouldn’t speak to anyone, although she certainly reacted to them, mostly by

glaring and the occasional attempt to bite, she managed to do serious damage to

a nurse that tried to force feed her. In the file her name was Jasmine Winters; no

one in their right state of mind would believe it was the same girl as the one in

the photos in her files. The Jasmine Winters in the files was a clean, healthy

looking teenage girl, a blonde, leggy, homecoming queen type... about a heroin

habit away from becoming a low-rent porn star. The girl in the cell had chopped

off most of her hair with razor blades and painted the rest black with a can of

spray paint and tangled some more of the same telephone wire in. The girl in the

cell was dirty and skinny and caked with grime when the got her in. There were

jagged scars spelling out Heavy Metal just below her throat.

I’m not personally supposed to read the patient files. None of my business, but

after mopping up bloody vomit full of glass slivers off of a cell floor, I get curious.

The first night I was in there she just sat in the corner of her room watching me

over her knees. I attempted conversation as best I could while pushing around

the mop.

Issue # 0X05, 06/2005 -2- http://www.neometropolis.com

NEOMETROPOLIS

“Sure is a hell of a lot of glass and metal. Did you eat all of this, or did someone

feed it to you?”

She kept of with her glare, narrowed her eyes a bit into a “shut-up” look. I never

let that sort of thing bother me much. Most of the patients at the institute warm up

to you if you play dumb, like you don’t notice that they don’t like you. This is also

how I get into rooms with files I’m not supposed to be looking at. Half the staff

thinks I can’t read.

“I’m Derek, What’s your name?”

I got more of the same from her, if anything she tired to look meaner. In the end I

let her be, after all, I could always learn everything I wanted to know later. I think

it was primarily the look she had when she came in and the vile slime on the floor

that made me curious enough to keep trying to get to know her. I wish I had

smuggled my camera in that night.

I saw her a couple of times over the next week in the activity room and the like.

The other patients avoided her as much as possible, which was not difficult as

she pretty much sat in the corner of the room and glared unless she was hassled

to do otherwise. For some reason they had absolutely no problem feeding her

her medication, she only fought the normal everyday food. I tried striking up a

conversation with her more than once. They pretty much all went as well as the

first one.

“Hi, your name’s Jasmine, isn’t it?”

...nothing...

“Remember me? I’m Derek. I helped clean up your room.”

...nought...

“You really don’t look like a Jasmine to me. I bet your friends call you Jazz.”

...zip...

“You’re not much of a talker are you?”

...zero...

“Okay... going...”

...zilch...

About that time a patient name Walter came up to me and made a grab for me:

Issue # 0X05, 06/2005 -3- http://www.neometropolis.com

NEOMETROPOLIS

“She’s not very friendly. She hasn’t said anything to anybody. She bit Nurse

Anthony, too... real hard. You should come over here with me and see my new

invention.”

***

The second Monday after they brought her in I got called up to Doctor Haley:.

Jasmine had spilled a bottle of water on the floor when Haley was trying to

assess her condition in what the staff calls the playroom. Haley was the kind of

asshole who thought that because I was the janitor it was my job to clean up

every little spill, he could have managed the mess with a handkerchief himself.

The playroom is one of the most fucked-up room you could ever imagine. I snuck

a camera in once and took some pictures of it. It is this big room that looks at first

like a nursery, you have a lot of soft, padded furniture, boxes full of toys, a couple

of mats, and a desk with a cheap old blue-plastic computer with some puzzle-

type games on it. The doctors seem to think they can get some kind of idea

about what is wrong with the non-so-talkative patients using it. The problem is,

the room itself is totally sterile white and meticulously clean. The single window in

the room looks out over a cemetery full of dead trees and a run-down church,

and they’re barred from the inside to keep patients from breaking the glass. The

only splash of colour other than the computer and the toys is a big red panic

button to call the orderly thugs in case a patient gets violent. Half the time they

get semi-catatonic types in there who cuddle up with the first doll they are

handed and sit in the middle of the room staring off into space. I actually have a

picture of just such a thing from when I snuck a camera into the institute. I have

finally got all of those where I want them. I’ll be putting them up in a gallery

sometime next year once I get the hell out of this city and up north where they

appreciate real art.

Anyway, That Monday I headed into the playroom with a mop and some sponges

and rags, etc., and started mopping up. The Doctor Haley decided to come over

and stick his nose where it was not wanted. He was on my back from the day I

started working at the institute, with this high-and-mighty twelve-years-of-college

moral-majority attitude. He saw me as some kind of do-nothing jerkoff who he

expected to quit as soon as I could find a way to get money out of it. Not that he

ever said anything straight up. That might get him in trouble. It was always a

tone-of-voice thing, and double-talk.

“Hello, Derek, the water is right there.”

“Hello, Doctor Haley.”

“How are things going, Derek?”

“They’re going, Doctor.”

Issue # 0X05, 06/2005 -4- http://www.neometropolis.com

NEOMETROPOLIS

“Just going?”

“Well...”

“How come I never hear you say things are going well, or good, or something like

that? Are you feeling alright these days?”

Now before you say something like “he seems alright to me,” I’d like to point out

that I was a patient in the institute for a few years back when I was young and

stupid, myself. The way he said things implied “are you sure you don’t want me

to find out what’s wrong with you so you can give up the janitor job and become a

decent productive member of society like me and not a slob?” He has something

against artwork and all things worthwhile. I think he’s in the job for the money.

I gave him my best Slater/Nicholson “No, Doc I’m feeling just fine,” and he was

about to get preachy on me when we both hear this flurry of key-tapping. When I

came in, the Doctor had Jasmine playing some kind of Tetris-clone game. I had

been slightly surprised by the fact that he actually got her to play it at all, from

what I could tell; she thought computers were for eating.

By the time we got over to see what she was doing, she had already broken out

of the security lockouts, downloaded and installed some old telecommunications

software from the stone age of computers and managed to get into a chat-room,

and had started a conversation with some Internet person.

My policy at the institute in general is not let the doctors see me curious about

things, it makes them think there’s more to you than a shaven-headed janitor

punk with a lip ring. But my jaw dropped just as fast as Doc Haley’s did and we

both ran over the monitor to watch. Jasmine didn’t seem to notice us there. I was

just about caught up in reading the conversation when the Doctor looked up and

realized I was reading it too.

“Derek would you mind leaving us be... I don’t want you crowding the patient. I

can clean up if you’ll just leave me a rag.”

***

Once most of the staff had cleared off and lights out was in effect I decided to

modify my cleaning schedule and mop up the playroom on Tuesdays instead of

Wednesdays. Now, I know something about computers. I’m no hacker, but I

know one and I asked him a few questions the next morning. He said it was

really simple stuff to get around, and the best way not to get spotted by the

computer guy would be to unplug the computer from the network-switching hub-

dohickey. So Tuesday night I went in with a slip of paper with the hacking stuff

written down on it, and an old-fashioned blank floppy-disk to copy the stuff down

Issue # 0X05, 06/2005 -5- http://www.neometropolis.com

NEOMETROPOLIS

on. I figured if nothing else, I might be able to use it all for a story, or at least get

a kick out of it. At the time, Jasmine was still interesting. I also figured maybe

there was a way I could fuck with Doctor Haley if I got creative. It wasn’t

particularly juicy stuff, and half of it was practically unreadable geekspeak, but it

had some interesting moments.

*** HeavyMetalChick joined #retrogame 16:35-11/14/07 ***

(HeavyMetalChick): HIH! = )

(Animals): MC! Where’ve U been? Haven’t seen U in a week!

(L33-R0y): geex> N0p3 N3\/3R B33n.

Hy, H3@\/y H0\/\/ R U?

(Geex): L33-R0y> Really? You have to check it out.

H.M.C.>Hey.

(HeavyMetalChick): Got sick. Am in Hospital. = (

(Animals): That’s not cool. What happened?

(HeavyMetalChick): Working too hard on the experiment. Crashed hard.

(L33-R0y): 3y3 H0P3 U R F33LyNG B3TT3R.

(Geex): I am sending you the URL.

*** Sascha_K joined #retrogame 16:38-11/14/07 ***

(Mr.44): Geex, Do U have the crack 4 Kyrandia 3?

(Animals): U have been working too hard on that thing. U still haven’t

told us what you are working on, anyway. How about a hint?

Sascha_K> Guten Tag! Wie Geht’s?

(Sascha_K): LO

(HeavyMetalChick): Animals> You are what you eat.

L33-R0y> Thanx. Did you find that card 4 me?

*** Mr.44 was disconnected from #retrogame by @Otaku[lurking] 16:40-

11/14/07 ***

No leechy-leechy!

(Sascha_K): Nicht Schlecht..

Heavy> What’s up?

(Animals):That’s what you always say... Another hint.

(L33-R0y): YUP. \/\/H3R3 D0 U \/\/@NT 2 M33T 4 IT?

... T0@$T3D!

(HeavyMetalChick) Hey, SK.

Animals> Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

L33-R0y> We may have to wait until I’m out of the Hospital, how often R

U going to be at Omni this week?

(Geex): Otaku> What did he do?

(Animals): ~sigh~

(L33-R0y) H3@\/y> rotflmao

(L33-R0y): 3\/3Ry NIT3.

(HeavyMetalChick) Animals> ; )

(Sascha_K): Geex> He used the ‘C’ word in the public chat. Otaku’s

autokick script went off. Haven’t you ever checked ?rules ?

(HeavyMetalChick): L33-R0y Thanx. Could you keep it on you?

(Geex): So I can’t call you a buttcracker if I want to?

Issue # 0X05, 06/2005 -6- http://www.neometropolis.com

NEOMETROPOLIS

*** Geex was disconnected from #retrogame by @Otaku[lurking] 16:40-

11/14/07 ***

IRQ Mismach Error #4268: Speech coming from wrong orifice!

(L33-R0y): N0 PR0B.

(Animals): I take it all of this old hardware has something to do with

your experiment?

(HeavyMetalChick): Maybe.

(Animals): Don’t try too hard, okay. The last thing you need is to burn

yourself out.

(L33-R0y): H3y, H3@\/y, 3y3 G0T @ l33D 0N S0(\/)3 0F y3 0LD3 DI(\/)

R@M, 2. INT3R3ST3D?

*** NO CARRIER ***

Apparently, that is about the time that the system guys spotted Jasmine hacking

and slashing her way through the network and kicked her off. My techno-geek

buddy looked it all over for me and told me how to get into the same chat room,

and how to make one of my own. That’s when I got the brilliant idea about how I

could get through to talking to her. The mysterious experiment might be just what

I needed for a story, or at least to screw over Haley, which seemed like a good

idea at the time.

On my day off, I went out and bought a pair of hand-held computers from a used

electronics store for about fifty bucks and a cable to connect the two of them. I

set one up so it could set up a chat room like the other one. I called it

#rubber_room. After getting my work done for the night I slipped into Jasmine’s

cell. As usual I found her huddled in the corner. She somehow managed to

remain looking unwashed throughout her two weeks in the institute, and

undernourished enough that she had only begun to grow new hair even though

they had shaved her head the morning after she had come in. I sat down on her

unused cot and looked her in the eye. She gave me a poisonous glare from

behind her knees.

“It must be a real pain in the ass... having people talking to you like a baby and

hovering over your shoulder half of the day.. You know, if you pretend to be even

remotely capable of sociable interaction, they would give you some space...”

She made a very deliberate sweep of my throat with narrowed eyes.

“You’re not at all interested in talking to anyone face to face are you?” I reached

into my coat and pulled out one of the mini-computers and held it up for her. She

moved like she was going to take it for a moment and then stopped and went

back to giving me ugly looks. “Look... I’m not a doctor... this is strictly between

me and you. If things work out I might even let you keep it... It’s got a cellular

modem in it and everything. You could use it to talk to your friends online or

whatever, instead of counting the fibres of the wall padding.”

She gave me another look up and down and then reached out for it slowly. I kept

it just out of reach for another second.

Issue # 0X05, 06/2005 -7- http://www.neometropolis.com

NEOMETROPOLIS

“Just two things... It’s not food, and this is strictly between you and me... you

keep this thing hidden from the doctors and orderlies...”

She gave me another ugly look and then took the hand-held and began to type:

*** HeavyMetalChick joined #rubber_room 02:04-11/17/07 ***

(HeavyMetalChick): So what do I have to do to keep this thing? You want

me to suck your cock or something?

(Derek): I want to know about this big experiment of yours.

(HeavyMetalChick): I thought you said you weren’t a doctor.

(Derek): I’m not. I’m just curious.

(HeavyMetalChick): Why?

(Derek): Maybe I can turn it into a story or a painting or something.

(HeavyMetalChick): So you’re an artist.

(Derek): You could say that. I get all my inspiration from working at

the institute.

(HeavyMetalChick): In other words you are some hack who takes trues

stories of human suffering and sell them off as art to perverts,

sickos, headbangers, and goths because its easier than coming up with

real ideas.

(Derek): Pretty much. Yeah.

(HeavyMetalChick): I’m down with that.

(Derek): So you’ll tell me then?

(HeavyMetalChick): If you’ll help me out.

(Derek): Deal.

(HeavyMetalChick): I’m jamming the narrative.

(Derek): ??

(HeavyMetalChick): It’s simple. Language is reality. Reality is

language. We are about a thousand light years from ever seeing what’s

really real, because we think and understand the world through filters.

Language is a filter. You don’t see the grass as brown, but when your

eyes are hit by light bouncing off the molecules that make grass your

brain think ‘grass is brown’. Any way in which you deal with that grass

comes from those words floating around in your head. The actual really

real grass is not what you think about, its not what you touch, or mow,

or burn, or whatever, you are concerned with the idea of grass in your

head.

(Derek): Foucault right?

(HeavyMetalChick): Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition! He reads!

(Derek): So what’s this got to do with “jamming the narrative.”

(HeavyMetalChick): Okay, so our whole reality is words right?

Everything we see and do and think has nothing to do with anything

really real. Hell you could hallucinate the grass... you could be

dreaming your entire life without anything you see actually

representing a real thing, right?

(Derek): Right right.

(HeavyMetalChick): Our language is ingrained with a bunch of ideas too,

right?

(Derek): go on.

(HeavyMetalChick): Its like when feminists used to go nuts on the whole

neuter ‘he’ thing. When you say ‘he’ when talking about someone in a

hypothetical situation when you don’t know if it’s a man or a woman, it

makes you think in certain ways and calls back on all sorts of things.

Issue # 0X05, 06/2005 -8- http://www.neometropolis.com

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摘要：

ContentsWhydowelistentothisshmo?1BrianRideoutPupate(fiction)2VeraSearlesASpurintheEye(fiction)15JohnJacobsPort67Excerpt(fiction)19MarinaLeeSableProphecy(poetry)31GregBeattyRecycling(fiction)32JasonEarlsGooglePrimes(article)34DarrenFranzLivingDoll(fiction)36DarrenSpeegleAscendtheSeasoningSon(fiction)...

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