I was 16 years old:
Saturday, December 8, 2018
Thursday, September 20, 2018
From MRR 177
[I'm reprinting this here. It's from MRR 177, probably late 1990s]
You're Wrong
An Irregular Column
by Mykel Board
"Property is theft." --P.J. Proudhon
"Intellectual property is mind theft." --Mykel Board
It was weirder than bailing Ian MacKaye out of the drunk
tank. I walk into the medical building where my doctor has her
office. I've got an appointment for a prostate check. Pissing
every 45 minutes, I figure something's wrong.
When I enter the building, this fat little man with a
walrus-style mustache sidles up to me. He's wearing a green
uniform with a matching officer's hat. On the hat is a picture of
something that looks like a brain. There's a red circle around it
and a diagonal line through the middle.
"That'll be twenty-five cents, please." he says, holding out
his hand.
"For what?" I ask, "you don't even know where I'm going."
"It doesn't matter," he answers, "I'm collecting
royalties... For the architect. You use the building. He gets
paid."
The urge to argue is less than the urge, so I fork over the
quarter. Inside the doctor's office, I check in with the
anorexia-thin receptionist and go to take a seat.
"Hang on there," she says, "you've got to pay the seat tax.
Ten cents, please."
I reach in my pocket, taking the opportunity to stroke my
problem area a few times.
"What's this one for?" I ask.
"Five cents goes to the carpenter and the other five goes to
the guy who designed the chair."
I sit down and wait until the doctor calls me.
When I'm in her office, she asks me to strip and lie on the
table face down. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her reach
into a box of latex gloves. She puts one on. Then she goes for
the KY.
"After I finish," she says, "in addition to my regular fee,
you'll have to pay a dollar in royalties."
"Royalt..." I start to ask before the finger penetrates.
"That's twenty cents to the guy who invented latex gloves,"
she explains," another twenty to the inventor of KY Jelly, thirty
to the guy who discovered the manufacturing process and another
thirty to the family of the first doctor who ever stuck a finger
up someone's ass."
***********************************
Of course, none of this really happened. But it's the
logical extension of our system of "intellectual property."
Normally, when you do a job, you get paid for it. When you want
more money, you do another job.
I'm not a fan of work. I'd like to see a pay system for
doing nothing you don't want to. 100% unemployment, that's my
goal. But if we're gonna have a bad system, lets have an equally
bad one. A book-writer or a musician does a job. Instead of
getting paid for it and going on to the next one, she continues
to get paid, though the work is long finished.
Not only musicians and writers, but publishers, labels and
hundreds of others. That's not all. Anyone who patents a medicine
or an invention or trademarks a brand name, puts in their claim.
You've got a lot of "intellectual property" there. You've also
got a lot of folks manning intellectual shotguns to protect it.
Denise Dingbat writes a song and records it. The Hairy Balls
sing a new version of it. The Hairy Balls pay to record their
version. The Hairy Balls pay for the record pressing. The Hairy
Balls sell the records. The Hairy Balls put Denise's name under
the song, so everybody knows she wrote it. The Hairy Balls still
have to pay Denise Dingbat! For what? What work did Denise
Dingbat do for The Hairy Balls? None! It doesn't make sense.
It gets even dumber. Take t-shirts. Please.
What is a band t-shirt? It's an ad! It's a commercial for an
entertainment entity. Wearing a T-shirt with Earth Crisis on it
is no less commercial than wearing one with Calvin Klein on it.
How logical is it that a person PAYS to advertise something?
A t-shirt says "I like this band. I want you to know." How
logical is it that a person CANNOT advertise what they like.
But that's the law-- and the policy of most bands. Your t-
shirts must be licensed. That is, you have to pay the band to
advertise them. What work did the band do in making that t-shirt?
How did they participate? Yet they get paid for it. The idea is
somehow theirs. That idea has a copyright. It's lucky no one can
read your thoughts. Otherwise they'd charge you every time you
THINK a band's name.
If the copyright/patent/royalty system were only stupid, I
wouldn't object to it. Tamagochi, day-glow condoms, and The X-
Files are stupid. BFD. But the evil goes deeper than just
stupidity.
The scene: a street market in Thailand. It's Pat Pong during
the day. Too early for the sex clubs, bootleg Levis, Doc Martins
and Gucci bags are the attraction now.
Tables filled with cassette copies of big-selling albums
cater to both the traveling tramps and the local Thais.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEE AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW EEEEEEEEEEEEEE AWWWWWWWWWWW
Sirens howl down the street. A small white police car
screeches to a halt in front of the Pat Pong gate. The door
opens. Three cops get out, followed by an American. The American,
dressed in a black suit, with polished shoes and very dark
sunglasses, passes the cops. He walks through the gate and down
the street. The cops follow.
At the first stand, the American reaches into the jeans
piled in front of him. The Thai stand-owner and his wife strain
to cover the look of horror on their faces. The American picks at
the clothes, examining the seams. He throws them back onto the
cart, motioning to the cops like you might call a dog.
The cops pull the jeans off the table and stuff them into a
huge burlap sack. Tears well up in the owner's eyes. The cops say
nothing to them.
Under American direction, the police clear most of the
clothing stands and all the cassette tables. Everything, packed
into a sack. The merchants try to save their livelihood. At a
pocketbook stand, an old lady grabs the American by the sleeve.
She cries, pulls on him, begs.
He turns to her and removes his sunglasses. His small eyes
squint in the bright light.
"I'm sorry," he says, aware that she can't understand his
words, "but my job is to enforce the law."
The next day, the newspapers print a picture of a giant
bulldozer grinding cassettes into plastic dust. The newly jobless
are gathering paper cups to beg on the street.
Let's hop on a private jet with the American inspector. We
watch Thailand disappear from beneath us as we head for Delhi.
When our plane lands, we follow the inspector into town to the
local drug store.
Inside, we see the American inspector looking at the local
brands, made by Indian drug companies. These drugs are cheap and
readily available to the poor Indians. This time, a single Indian
cop moseys in behind him. The cop, a young man with a thin
mustache, wears a curiously calm look.
"They're copies," says the American. "These are drugs
invented by the world's great pharmaceutical companies, made
without license, here in India. They are frauds. Confiscate
them."
"No," says the Indian cop, "our people need these drugs. The
drug companies who invented them are already rich. We are not."
"Fine," says the American, "then you don't get any more
drugs."
He storms out alone. We can follow him as he walks to his
satellite-modem connected computer. We'll watch as he emails
World Patent Central.
"India refuses to respect intellectual property laws." he
types. "In violation of international agreements, it is removing
legitimate profits from international pharmaceutical companies. I
suggest it be put on the `non-cooperative' list. It's no longer a
`most favored nation.' We need to subject its goods to the same
high tariffs and international boycotts as other non-cooperating
nations. We can bring India to its knees."
Clicking SEND, our inspector huffs back to his plane and
takes off for Africa.
These are not fictional incidents, buckaroos, they really
happen. Intellectual property laws cause poverty and death as
well as simple annoyance. Remember, Clinton threatened sanctions
against China, not for human rights violations, but for bootleg
CDs.
There's another reason that intellectual property is evil.
That is, it prevents innovation-- or building on past ideas.
Suppose the inventor of the typewriter took out a patent on the
keyboard. Every other make of typewriter would need to pay to use
the layout-- or come up with one of it's own.
You'd have as many keyboard layouts as you have companies.
People wouldn't be able to move from one machine to another
without relearning the typing process on a new keyboard. Someone
comes up with an improvement on the old keyboard. They electrify
it, or attach it to a computer. Whoops, no good, gotta switch the
letters around again.
Well, you ask, don't writers, authors, inventors, and other
creative people deserve to get paid for their efforts?
The simple answer is NO ONE deserves to get paid for their
efforts. We should do things for results, not pay. Given our
social system, however, people NEED to get paid for their
efforts. But they don't need to get paid differently from anyone
else.
When a record label signs a band, they're hiring them to
make a record. They should pay the band for making the record and
that's it. Some bands will sell more records, make more money for
the label, and therefore should be paid more. But once paid,
that's the end. If you want more money, you make another record--
or perform and get paid for that.
If a drug company makes a drug, they should sell it, like
any other product. If someone copies that product, then the
company has to compete with the copier. Maybe they can improve
their product, make it more attractive, sell it at a cheaper
price. Whatever the case, only the THINGS they create are theirs
to sell, not the IDEA of the creation.
The same goes for you musicians, writers, and performers.
When you perform for others, that performance is THEIRS, not
yours. The audience should have the right to do what they want
with it, including copying it, pressing it and selling it at
Bleecker Bobs. They paid for a ticket to see you. You gave them
something for that payment. How can you own something after you
sell it? Especially an idea: a song, a logo, a band name. How can
you own these anyway? Ideas need to remain free if we are to do
the same.
ENDNOTES:
--> Missing the point dept: MRR printed a couple of letters in
response to my bike column. In that column, I parody the anti-
smoking hysteria. The letter writers missed the parody, but
that's not the point. They also challenged the statistics: deaths
and sexual disfunction. They're real. I checked them myself. I
didn't make them up.
Personally, I've had three bikes since I've been in NYC.
I've kept each for an average of a year and a half. All of them
were stolen. I've owned one car in my life, for a total of 6
months. I've never seen a cyclist given a ticket, though one
letter writer has. Maybe he was lucky.
--> And it's not even California dept: "Thursday, Dec. 4, at
6:30: There will be a panel discussion and open forum on
flirting. There will be no charge to attend."
Yow! I'll be there, wearing my pheremones. It's the Society
for Human Sexuality. They seem to have a good attitude, except
for "anyone over the age of 18 is welcome to attend." More info
comes from weber.u.washington.edu/~humsex/
--> Gotta match? dept. The National Environmental Trust reports
that between 1988 and 1992, there were more than 34,000 toxic
chemical accidents in the US. Corporate accidents, they were. The
same organization also reports that microwaving food in plastic
containers releases a carcinogen called DEHP into the food. There
is no plan to inform consumers.
Cancer rates are skyrocketing. What is industry going to do?
Now that you're not allowed to smoke anywhere, who are they going
to blame the deaths on? Fear not. If there's one thing industrial
PR men DON'T lack, it's creativity.
BARBECUES! Yes, now they say barbecues are responsible for
air pollution and increased cancer rates. Not only are your lungs
held hostage to second hand smoke, but they also suffer from
spare ribs!
Like the smoking smokescreen, it's all lies, of course. NET
says "all 97 million American households would have to barbecue
14 hours a day-- every day-- just to match the pollution from
industrial and transportation sources."
Pass the beans, please.
-->Good deed dept: A West PA promoter jumps out of a plane with a
parachute that doesn't work. OK, what else is new? The guy
splatters. No surprise. What IS the surprise, though, is that he
asked people to establish a music fund for kids after his death.
Instead of turning people into junkies or Christians, this
guy wants to die to turn 'em into musicians (an overlapping, but
not congruous category). Strange thoughtfulness from a promoter!
The guy's name is Mickey Chalick. You can email
jrogan@voicenet.com for information about the fund. It's worth a
couple of bucks.
--> Q. If there's a punk and a skinhead in the back of a car,
who's in the front?
A. A cop
That is among the punk jokes in Atrophy Zine where their
motto is "Motto's Are For Sissies!" It's a fun little punkzine.
You can get a copy for a dollar from Atrophy Zine. POB C-11, New
Rochelle NY 10804.
--> Christians on the rampage dept: Dave Price, who does a music
zine (he didn't tell me the name) sent me a copy of a Christian
rant-poem he got in the mail. It's about how "all shall be laid
to rest, for the lion of Judah shall open his mouth and roar."
The poem was hand-written in alternating red and black pen. As a
postscript it says "Read the Bible, The Proof is all There. Come
to the Cross. Do it Now! Mykel Board IS WRONG. Christ Jesus is
Right PERIOD! LOVE PAUL (capitalization is the authors)"
This would be weird enough, but Dave never sent Paul his
zine. It was only listed in the "other zines" section in the MRR
reviews. Did EVERYBODY get a hand-written copy of this. Yow! This
guy is dedicated. Ah well, idle hands are the devils work...
Reminds me, I'd better jerk-off.
--> Can't get enough of me dept: If you'd like to read some of my
back columns, you can visit the column archives now in three
places:
www.killcreek.com/devolution/mykel/index.html
www.worldchat.com/vic/wwp/mykel
www.ecs.csun.edu/~aquiroz/columns.htm
Thanks to Scott, Vic and Mels who're maintaining these sites. My
own fledgling homepage is at:
http://www.freeyellow.com/members2/seidboard/
-->Speaking of the web dept: There an interesting site at:
http://www.freedomforum.org/first/resources.asp
It's THE FREEDOM FORUM, a first amendment group made up of
Gannett/USA Today formers and presents. It has some good
reporting and presents lots of information about first amendment
issues. It's interestingly one-sided though.
When The Dallas Morning News printed lawyer-client
information in the Timothy McVeigh case, they supported the
newspaper, favoring Freedom of the Press over the guarantee of a
fair trial. There are other cases there where they claim a
"public right to know" overshadows any other rights, like privacy
or presumed innocence. In a way, it's an unintentional wake-up
call, reminding us there is more than one amendment to the
constitution.
--> I know most MRR readers don't get what you deserve-- and boy
are you lucky! But on the insurance front, it's another matter. I
have no health insurance. But folks going to school or suffering
the horrors of employment might. I also know that many readers
here are more comfortable with natural medical therapies, saving
their drugs for recreation.
Enter Insurance Reimbursement for Alternative Therapies
Equity (2 Executive Blvd., Suite 404, Suffern NY 10901, 914-368-
9797). Aptly named IRATE, this group will fight for you if your
insurance turns down payment because your doctor is
'alternative.' Information is free, but they take donations.
My doctor listens to Smashing Pumpkins, is she alternative?
-->Spam o' the month dept: I don't know why there's so much
complaint about unsolicited email. If you don't like it, delete.
At least it doesn't kill trees. Besides, there's always so much
interesting stuff.
I just got an email message about a new phone card that will
put me in God's graces. You see, 5% of their profits go to anti-
abortion groups. You might be interested in the details. You can
call them directly and toll free at: 1-800-636-6773 ext 4492. You
don't have to tell 'em I sent you.
-->Sucker for Parodies dept: I love bands that make fun. THE
TUBES, ALBERTO & LOST TRIOS, you name it. The new kid on the
block is a metal parody band called: Heavy Flo. See 'em! They're
funnier than a burning church!
-->Ad of the month dept: This one's from Opportunity World, a
magazine aimed at suckers who fall for chain-letter and related
scams. This is from the Classified Personal Ads:
$1,000 WEEKLY- GIRLS pay you for your Intimate Services.
(Your area) Money never stops!!! Details $2.00. Brandies, 5187
Island Club Dr., Tamarac FL 33319.
OK, who's got the two bucks to check it out? Let me know
what happens... sucker.
Read more modern me at: mykelsblog.blogspot.com
--Mykel Board
You're Wrong
An Irregular Column
by Mykel Board
"Property is theft." --P.J. Proudhon
"Intellectual property is mind theft." --Mykel Board
It was weirder than bailing Ian MacKaye out of the drunk
tank. I walk into the medical building where my doctor has her
office. I've got an appointment for a prostate check. Pissing
every 45 minutes, I figure something's wrong.
When I enter the building, this fat little man with a
walrus-style mustache sidles up to me. He's wearing a green
uniform with a matching officer's hat. On the hat is a picture of
something that looks like a brain. There's a red circle around it
and a diagonal line through the middle.
"That'll be twenty-five cents, please." he says, holding out
his hand.
"For what?" I ask, "you don't even know where I'm going."
"It doesn't matter," he answers, "I'm collecting
royalties... For the architect. You use the building. He gets
paid."
The urge to argue is less than the urge, so I fork over the
quarter. Inside the doctor's office, I check in with the
anorexia-thin receptionist and go to take a seat.
"Hang on there," she says, "you've got to pay the seat tax.
Ten cents, please."
I reach in my pocket, taking the opportunity to stroke my
problem area a few times.
"What's this one for?" I ask.
"Five cents goes to the carpenter and the other five goes to
the guy who designed the chair."
I sit down and wait until the doctor calls me.
When I'm in her office, she asks me to strip and lie on the
table face down. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her reach
into a box of latex gloves. She puts one on. Then she goes for
the KY.
"After I finish," she says, "in addition to my regular fee,
you'll have to pay a dollar in royalties."
"Royalt..." I start to ask before the finger penetrates.
"That's twenty cents to the guy who invented latex gloves,"
she explains," another twenty to the inventor of KY Jelly, thirty
to the guy who discovered the manufacturing process and another
thirty to the family of the first doctor who ever stuck a finger
up someone's ass."
***********************************
Of course, none of this really happened. But it's the
logical extension of our system of "intellectual property."
Normally, when you do a job, you get paid for it. When you want
more money, you do another job.
I'm not a fan of work. I'd like to see a pay system for
doing nothing you don't want to. 100% unemployment, that's my
goal. But if we're gonna have a bad system, lets have an equally
bad one. A book-writer or a musician does a job. Instead of
getting paid for it and going on to the next one, she continues
to get paid, though the work is long finished.
Not only musicians and writers, but publishers, labels and
hundreds of others. That's not all. Anyone who patents a medicine
or an invention or trademarks a brand name, puts in their claim.
You've got a lot of "intellectual property" there. You've also
got a lot of folks manning intellectual shotguns to protect it.
Denise Dingbat writes a song and records it. The Hairy Balls
sing a new version of it. The Hairy Balls pay to record their
version. The Hairy Balls pay for the record pressing. The Hairy
Balls sell the records. The Hairy Balls put Denise's name under
the song, so everybody knows she wrote it. The Hairy Balls still
have to pay Denise Dingbat! For what? What work did Denise
Dingbat do for The Hairy Balls? None! It doesn't make sense.
It gets even dumber. Take t-shirts. Please.
What is a band t-shirt? It's an ad! It's a commercial for an
entertainment entity. Wearing a T-shirt with Earth Crisis on it
is no less commercial than wearing one with Calvin Klein on it.
How logical is it that a person PAYS to advertise something?
A t-shirt says "I like this band. I want you to know." How
logical is it that a person CANNOT advertise what they like.
But that's the law-- and the policy of most bands. Your t-
shirts must be licensed. That is, you have to pay the band to
advertise them. What work did the band do in making that t-shirt?
How did they participate? Yet they get paid for it. The idea is
somehow theirs. That idea has a copyright. It's lucky no one can
read your thoughts. Otherwise they'd charge you every time you
THINK a band's name.
If the copyright/patent/royalty system were only stupid, I
wouldn't object to it. Tamagochi, day-glow condoms, and The X-
Files are stupid. BFD. But the evil goes deeper than just
stupidity.
The scene: a street market in Thailand. It's Pat Pong during
the day. Too early for the sex clubs, bootleg Levis, Doc Martins
and Gucci bags are the attraction now.
Tables filled with cassette copies of big-selling albums
cater to both the traveling tramps and the local Thais.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEE AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW EEEEEEEEEEEEEE AWWWWWWWWWWW
Sirens howl down the street. A small white police car
screeches to a halt in front of the Pat Pong gate. The door
opens. Three cops get out, followed by an American. The American,
dressed in a black suit, with polished shoes and very dark
sunglasses, passes the cops. He walks through the gate and down
the street. The cops follow.
At the first stand, the American reaches into the jeans
piled in front of him. The Thai stand-owner and his wife strain
to cover the look of horror on their faces. The American picks at
the clothes, examining the seams. He throws them back onto the
cart, motioning to the cops like you might call a dog.
The cops pull the jeans off the table and stuff them into a
huge burlap sack. Tears well up in the owner's eyes. The cops say
nothing to them.
Under American direction, the police clear most of the
clothing stands and all the cassette tables. Everything, packed
into a sack. The merchants try to save their livelihood. At a
pocketbook stand, an old lady grabs the American by the sleeve.
She cries, pulls on him, begs.
He turns to her and removes his sunglasses. His small eyes
squint in the bright light.
"I'm sorry," he says, aware that she can't understand his
words, "but my job is to enforce the law."
The next day, the newspapers print a picture of a giant
bulldozer grinding cassettes into plastic dust. The newly jobless
are gathering paper cups to beg on the street.
Let's hop on a private jet with the American inspector. We
watch Thailand disappear from beneath us as we head for Delhi.
When our plane lands, we follow the inspector into town to the
local drug store.
Inside, we see the American inspector looking at the local
brands, made by Indian drug companies. These drugs are cheap and
readily available to the poor Indians. This time, a single Indian
cop moseys in behind him. The cop, a young man with a thin
mustache, wears a curiously calm look.
"They're copies," says the American. "These are drugs
invented by the world's great pharmaceutical companies, made
without license, here in India. They are frauds. Confiscate
them."
"No," says the Indian cop, "our people need these drugs. The
drug companies who invented them are already rich. We are not."
"Fine," says the American, "then you don't get any more
drugs."
He storms out alone. We can follow him as he walks to his
satellite-modem connected computer. We'll watch as he emails
World Patent Central.
"India refuses to respect intellectual property laws." he
types. "In violation of international agreements, it is removing
legitimate profits from international pharmaceutical companies. I
suggest it be put on the `non-cooperative' list. It's no longer a
`most favored nation.' We need to subject its goods to the same
high tariffs and international boycotts as other non-cooperating
nations. We can bring India to its knees."
Clicking SEND, our inspector huffs back to his plane and
takes off for Africa.
These are not fictional incidents, buckaroos, they really
happen. Intellectual property laws cause poverty and death as
well as simple annoyance. Remember, Clinton threatened sanctions
against China, not for human rights violations, but for bootleg
CDs.
There's another reason that intellectual property is evil.
That is, it prevents innovation-- or building on past ideas.
Suppose the inventor of the typewriter took out a patent on the
keyboard. Every other make of typewriter would need to pay to use
the layout-- or come up with one of it's own.
You'd have as many keyboard layouts as you have companies.
People wouldn't be able to move from one machine to another
without relearning the typing process on a new keyboard. Someone
comes up with an improvement on the old keyboard. They electrify
it, or attach it to a computer. Whoops, no good, gotta switch the
letters around again.
Well, you ask, don't writers, authors, inventors, and other
creative people deserve to get paid for their efforts?
The simple answer is NO ONE deserves to get paid for their
efforts. We should do things for results, not pay. Given our
social system, however, people NEED to get paid for their
efforts. But they don't need to get paid differently from anyone
else.
When a record label signs a band, they're hiring them to
make a record. They should pay the band for making the record and
that's it. Some bands will sell more records, make more money for
the label, and therefore should be paid more. But once paid,
that's the end. If you want more money, you make another record--
or perform and get paid for that.
If a drug company makes a drug, they should sell it, like
any other product. If someone copies that product, then the
company has to compete with the copier. Maybe they can improve
their product, make it more attractive, sell it at a cheaper
price. Whatever the case, only the THINGS they create are theirs
to sell, not the IDEA of the creation.
The same goes for you musicians, writers, and performers.
When you perform for others, that performance is THEIRS, not
yours. The audience should have the right to do what they want
with it, including copying it, pressing it and selling it at
Bleecker Bobs. They paid for a ticket to see you. You gave them
something for that payment. How can you own something after you
sell it? Especially an idea: a song, a logo, a band name. How can
you own these anyway? Ideas need to remain free if we are to do
the same.
ENDNOTES:
--> Missing the point dept: MRR printed a couple of letters in
response to my bike column. In that column, I parody the anti-
smoking hysteria. The letter writers missed the parody, but
that's not the point. They also challenged the statistics: deaths
and sexual disfunction. They're real. I checked them myself. I
didn't make them up.
Personally, I've had three bikes since I've been in NYC.
I've kept each for an average of a year and a half. All of them
were stolen. I've owned one car in my life, for a total of 6
months. I've never seen a cyclist given a ticket, though one
letter writer has. Maybe he was lucky.
--> And it's not even California dept: "Thursday, Dec. 4, at
6:30: There will be a panel discussion and open forum on
flirting. There will be no charge to attend."
Yow! I'll be there, wearing my pheremones. It's the Society
for Human Sexuality. They seem to have a good attitude, except
for "anyone over the age of 18 is welcome to attend." More info
comes from weber.u.washington.edu/~humsex/
--> Gotta match? dept. The National Environmental Trust reports
that between 1988 and 1992, there were more than 34,000 toxic
chemical accidents in the US. Corporate accidents, they were. The
same organization also reports that microwaving food in plastic
containers releases a carcinogen called DEHP into the food. There
is no plan to inform consumers.
Cancer rates are skyrocketing. What is industry going to do?
Now that you're not allowed to smoke anywhere, who are they going
to blame the deaths on? Fear not. If there's one thing industrial
PR men DON'T lack, it's creativity.
BARBECUES! Yes, now they say barbecues are responsible for
air pollution and increased cancer rates. Not only are your lungs
held hostage to second hand smoke, but they also suffer from
spare ribs!
Like the smoking smokescreen, it's all lies, of course. NET
says "all 97 million American households would have to barbecue
14 hours a day-- every day-- just to match the pollution from
industrial and transportation sources."
Pass the beans, please.
-->Good deed dept: A West PA promoter jumps out of a plane with a
parachute that doesn't work. OK, what else is new? The guy
splatters. No surprise. What IS the surprise, though, is that he
asked people to establish a music fund for kids after his death.
Instead of turning people into junkies or Christians, this
guy wants to die to turn 'em into musicians (an overlapping, but
not congruous category). Strange thoughtfulness from a promoter!
The guy's name is Mickey Chalick. You can email
jrogan@voicenet.com for information about the fund. It's worth a
couple of bucks.
--> Q. If there's a punk and a skinhead in the back of a car,
who's in the front?
A. A cop
That is among the punk jokes in Atrophy Zine where their
motto is "Motto's Are For Sissies!" It's a fun little punkzine.
You can get a copy for a dollar from Atrophy Zine. POB C-11, New
Rochelle NY 10804.
--> Christians on the rampage dept: Dave Price, who does a music
zine (he didn't tell me the name) sent me a copy of a Christian
rant-poem he got in the mail. It's about how "all shall be laid
to rest, for the lion of Judah shall open his mouth and roar."
The poem was hand-written in alternating red and black pen. As a
postscript it says "Read the Bible, The Proof is all There. Come
to the Cross. Do it Now! Mykel Board IS WRONG. Christ Jesus is
Right PERIOD! LOVE PAUL (capitalization is the authors)"
This would be weird enough, but Dave never sent Paul his
zine. It was only listed in the "other zines" section in the MRR
reviews. Did EVERYBODY get a hand-written copy of this. Yow! This
guy is dedicated. Ah well, idle hands are the devils work...
Reminds me, I'd better jerk-off.
--> Can't get enough of me dept: If you'd like to read some of my
back columns, you can visit the column archives now in three
places:
www.killcreek.com/devolution/mykel/index.html
www.worldchat.com/vic/wwp/mykel
www.ecs.csun.edu/~aquiroz/columns.htm
Thanks to Scott, Vic and Mels who're maintaining these sites. My
own fledgling homepage is at:
http://www.freeyellow.com/members2/seidboard/
-->Speaking of the web dept: There an interesting site at:
http://www.freedomforum.org/first/resources.asp
It's THE FREEDOM FORUM, a first amendment group made up of
Gannett/USA Today formers and presents. It has some good
reporting and presents lots of information about first amendment
issues. It's interestingly one-sided though.
When The Dallas Morning News printed lawyer-client
information in the Timothy McVeigh case, they supported the
newspaper, favoring Freedom of the Press over the guarantee of a
fair trial. There are other cases there where they claim a
"public right to know" overshadows any other rights, like privacy
or presumed innocence. In a way, it's an unintentional wake-up
call, reminding us there is more than one amendment to the
constitution.
--> I know most MRR readers don't get what you deserve-- and boy
are you lucky! But on the insurance front, it's another matter. I
have no health insurance. But folks going to school or suffering
the horrors of employment might. I also know that many readers
here are more comfortable with natural medical therapies, saving
their drugs for recreation.
Enter Insurance Reimbursement for Alternative Therapies
Equity (2 Executive Blvd., Suite 404, Suffern NY 10901, 914-368-
9797). Aptly named IRATE, this group will fight for you if your
insurance turns down payment because your doctor is
'alternative.' Information is free, but they take donations.
My doctor listens to Smashing Pumpkins, is she alternative?
-->Spam o' the month dept: I don't know why there's so much
complaint about unsolicited email. If you don't like it, delete.
At least it doesn't kill trees. Besides, there's always so much
interesting stuff.
I just got an email message about a new phone card that will
put me in God's graces. You see, 5% of their profits go to anti-
abortion groups. You might be interested in the details. You can
call them directly and toll free at: 1-800-636-6773 ext 4492. You
don't have to tell 'em I sent you.
-->Sucker for Parodies dept: I love bands that make fun. THE
TUBES, ALBERTO & LOST TRIOS, you name it. The new kid on the
block is a metal parody band called: Heavy Flo. See 'em! They're
funnier than a burning church!
-->Ad of the month dept: This one's from Opportunity World, a
magazine aimed at suckers who fall for chain-letter and related
scams. This is from the Classified Personal Ads:
$1,000 WEEKLY- GIRLS pay you for your Intimate Services.
(Your area) Money never stops!!! Details $2.00. Brandies, 5187
Island Club Dr., Tamarac FL 33319.
OK, who's got the two bucks to check it out? Let me know
what happens... sucker.
Read more modern me at: mykelsblog.blogspot.com
--Mykel Board
Saturday, March 24, 2018
Written in High School, 1967
Just found: Poem I wrote for a High School lit magazine in 1967! Maybe my first published thing?
Particle 1967
For more recent non-poetry works, check out my blog at mykelsblog.blogspot.com
Particle 1967
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