|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 100--6/21/96 <-------  ||  OsoaWeek  ||  Issues  ||  Book 8  ||  -------> (Cup OWis100, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = [[BEGIN100OW]] [[01100CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 1 0 0 * * * June 21, 1996 "The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!" by Frank Edward Nora CONTENTS 01 100 CV--Cover 02 100 LA--Lord of Obliviana 03 100 LM--Life Mysteries 04 100 SU--Superior OsoaWeek100, June 21, 1996 Ninth issue of OsoaWeek Book Eight Written by Frank Edward Nora (except where noted) Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement obliviana@aol.com 1-800-OBLIVIANA http://www.obliviana.com/~osoa All contents copyright 1996 Frank Edward Nora Regarding this file, you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. An Obliviana Cup containing this file will be available. Stay tuned for more details. ASCII Characters: 4857 / Words: 870 / Lines: 153 Days late: 44 *OW* [[02100LA]] Lord of Obliviana Sun 8/4/96 * 2:22 PM * home * Tarb 4432? Hi there. This is Frank Edward Nora, Lord of Obliviana. I might have some popcorn soon. Isn't that great? Get all Obliviana. *OW* [[03100LM]] Life Mysteries LIFE MYSTERY 8 "Space Monkeys" by John Nora Man Mountain Mike, do you think he's a fag? He looked regular, rough, and good-hearted. One time he had to get home. "My LOVER is making dinner," He said. I recall an equal-to-Mike, molten-steel black guy who gave me a ride (with Mike) to work, who Mike introduced as his roommate. The car had a cracked windshield, and it was very frozen-cold that morning I was walking on the side-walk, and the two stopped for me. Mike was quite measured, calming, and confident in the way he handled people; centered, worldly, and almost monastic. Mike was in charge of the Furniture Department, and there in the assembled furniture when a very effeminate check-out kid made a page over the intercom phone, Mike said very wisely, "That sounds like a fag." I agreed without invite that, yes, that guy made me sort of nervous when I was around him. "Do I make you nervous?" Mike said. Another time I was telling Mike how I thought we should have little space-monkeys to go up there, and arrange those high-up shelves. "I don't want to burst your bubble," Mike said, sat against an office desk-set, "but what do you think you are?" Mike basically admitted to me that when he went to sleep at night, as long as he had his little drink of vodka and some warm blanket over him, the room could have windows cracked, and freezing cold all around him. *OW* [[04100SU]] Superior SUPERIOR 552 * 7/20/96 Yellow gold, deep and inviting, cigarette butts are cool and reassuring, and silver and solid, a mind is a field behind an office park, and it is all frisbee and new, fruit memories punch in the belly, no curtains, just a day that is sun and rain and happy and sexy and talking to trees. Gigabyte hard drive, beaten up by commuting, little goals, little shows, people with their beliefs and their genitals... and their chattering all about technology, and I am whispering secrets to the uncut grass. SUPERIOR 553 * 7/20/96 For all of time, a clock is friend, going down to the stream, waiting for friends to call back, cellular calls, she is made of cells, but it doesn't ring true, cells, little tiny animals, zillions of them, and one her... it's a spiritual universe... cells and DNA and science... a frightened kid clutching a stuffed animal... science is the stuffed animal of the collective mind of the 20th Century. I had a dream years ago about a parking lot and a tunnel that goes to the mall. I still remember that dream. I am not experience any cells right now. I am one, whole, single. I am not made up of a zillion little animals. No matter what the little scientists mumble at me. SUPERIOR 554 * 7/20/96 Drugs and liberalism were the downfall of the hippies. Both are band-aids against the rush of reality. Mind and creativity and searching and yearning and games and new social organization... these are not incompatible with reality. To be blunt, I want to create something cultural with the best traits of the hippies, which can face reality, which doesn't collapse into the black hole of LSD and marijuana and hating the United States of America. Look at a tree... see the mystery... rooted in the beloved, robust, enduring soil of America. SUPERIOR 555 * 7/20/96 Sucking the life out of it. Chaos is natural, order in human. Push the roller coaster carriage up to the top, and thrill to the ride down, but the killer is forgetting that the ride is for a limited time and that another grueling uphill push will be needed. I don't know where I am. Looking around, not sure if I'm lost, breaking through, slicing some guidelines, and am free as far as my mind can take me, and it is a good mind. Lots of good minds out there. Can't we initiate a great atmosphere for us all to flourish in? *OW* [[END100OW]] -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----