'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!! ##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: =========================================== ##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #427 !! #########: ##:::: ##: ######::: =========================================== ##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: "One man, Standing At The Threshold" !! ##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: *or* !! ##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: "I Am An Adventurer!@" !! ..:::::..::::.....::::........:: by -> Rantaslin 1/13/99 !! !!========================================================================!! What exactly this title will have to do with the eventual outcome of this article means little or nothing to me. The true value comes from the fact that I have no better title, it sounds neat, and it's my first article for HOE, authored by myself, Rantaslin (for bitterness), and edited by Teerts (for flow[!?])... Now let's take a stab at it shall we? After much prodding and poking by a dear friend of mine, whom some of you probably already know if you read HOE with any frequency (Teerts), I decided to write an article. So in my own hack-and-slash style, let's give it a go. Ahem. The topic of today's discussion, boys and girls? Consideration for others, and the entire sociological make up of this town that Teerts and I know, but doubtfully love, called Reading, Pennsylvania. It all starts with an average evening of late for myself and Teerts. I, being the motivator of the group, (well, due more to the fact that Teerts is the most indecisive S.O.B. that I know, and the rest can be like lemmings), we gather at my house to plan our activities for the night. While sitting around, and tossing these nifty little popper things that fly an amazingly long distance for their size I might add, we decide that sitting around is definitely *not* what we got together for, in fact it's what we try to avoid. So as we see it we have two choices -- Denny's or the Mall(s). We can't decide, so we hop into two cars (which is a silly idea, since we always get separated along the way) -- myself and Teerts in the Bugula (ya know, one of those shiny and nifty new VW creations), and Altrocks and a mutual friend of ours in the other. Pulling out onto the bypass... all goes well, until a rather large truck decides to ride my ass, and not let me merge trafic. After getting onto the bypass and deciding I don't wanna put up with this shit right now. I move to pass him... no big deal... three cars in a row... done this before, just blow right by them. Simple enough right? Not when the last car you pass is a marked police car without it's lights on. Being the astute observer that he is, Teerts exclaims 'That's a cop.' Eh, from 85 to 60 in no time flat, but not fast enough. I pass the cop doing 60 in a 55 zone, and proceed to pull in front of him. Thinking that he may let me go. I relax... a bit too much...65, and the white and blue starts to flash. Meanwhile car "B", (Altrocks) sees all, and manages to get by without a hitch (if you knew how he normally drove you'd find this hilarious). So, anyway, off the road I pull, and I prepare to face the worst... my mind racing. Thinking of having to tell my parents a day before christmas that I got a $70 ticket for speeding, when the cop walks up and says "If you tell me a little bit about your car, I'll let you off. I always wanted to see the inside of one of these, isn't information a good trade instead of a ticket?" Slightly shaking from surprise, anxiety, and confusion, I do so. The fact that a man can be so seemingly benevolent amazes me. It kicks ass. By this time car "B" is long gone, having resumed its crusing at speeds nearing mach 1. Teerts and I try vainly to explain this occurence to one another and we eventually settle on one of two theories: one, the cop was a sheriff and he knew that some speeding kids aren't really part of the big crime problem in Reading -- or two, the cop felt pity for me after seing my Drivers license photo. We resume our search for car "B". Reaching the farther out of the two malls, we look around, Teerts suggests that they turned around and looked for us. Wasting more than half of an hour cruising around looking for them we eventually return to the mall and find them there. 'Told yah, Teerts,' to which he responds, 'Fuck you, Rant." Reunited, we proceed through the mall, in all its whack glory. We see a few friends, continue our cyclic mall procession, and eventually Teerts and I become alienated... shoved off into a corner. This pisses us off, we aren't being abnormally prickish (well, Teerts is, but not me), especially considering the normal level of prickishness present (often just facetious, though not always) in our circle of friends. After about 45 mintues of what felt like being ignored, pissed, and shit on, we get bored and head over to borders, get a drink read some books, gee great fun. Meanwhile those from car "B", have still not had the curtesy to catch up with us. In any event my final observation is that a cop whom I have no relation to, who owes me nothing, and who knows no more than the information readily avalible on my drivers license, give me no ticket, not even a citation or warning, just asks about my car, and bids me a happy holidays and tells me to be careful, and sends me on my merry way. At the same time, my friends basically tell me to fuck off. So it goes, I suppose, and this is just another one of my rants. So I stand at the threshold, waiting for thought to arrive... !!========================================================================!! !! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! #427, WRITTEN BY: RANTASLIN - 1/13/99 !!