MSTed: B Creme: Part 1 of 4

From: burton@lobster.gsfc.nasa.gov (T-Bone)

[1...2...3...4...5...6...]

[Interior of Satellite of Love. We see Mike Nelson and the three robots
 (Gypsy, Tom Servo, and Crow T. Robot, for those of you unfamiliar with the
 show) dressed in old jeans and black t-shirts; Gypsy is also wearing a vest
 with shiny red spangles; she has a LOT of lipstick on. Mike, Tom, and Crow
 are all wearing Raybans. Tom is sporting a goatee and wearing a fez. Mike
 is wearing a cool fedora; Crow, a beret. They are obviously acting like
 they are in a band: Crow is playing sax, Mike is on slide guitar, Gypsy is
 singing, Servo is at a small keyboard, even though his arms are inoperable.
 Though the music is definitely good-rockin' blues, a harpsichord can be
 heard in the background.]

GYPSY (singing, sounding like a younger Etta James):
      You got me runnin' ...
      You got me hidin'.
      Run hide hide runnin'
      Any way you want it.
      Let it roll...
      Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaah yeah-eh
      Alright.
      Well you got me where you want me now,
      Baby what you want me to do.

[Music continues...]

MIKE: Oh, hi, everybody. I'm Mike Nelson, and these are my 'bots: Gypsy,
      Crow, and Tom Servo. As all you MiSTies know, I'm alone in space
      against my will, thanks to Doctor Forrester and TV's Frank, the Mad
      Scientists in Deep Thirteen. They're no longer content to send us
      cheesy movies; they now have agents all over the newsgroups, looking
      for bad posts to torture us with here on The Satellite of Love. I
      understand that this MSTing is going out to the good folks over at
      alt.mythology who are sick and tired of John_-_Winston and everything
      he stands for. Nice to have all you right-thinking folks with us.

      I was just trying to give my robot buddies an idea of what The Chicago
      Blues Festival was like back when it was about the blues and not about
      some wimpy Ivy League business majors trying to make it more popular
      by ignoring blues for doo-wop that yuppie scum and know-nothing white
      trash think is blues.
MAGIC VOICE: Commercial sign in 15 seconds.
CROW: Uh, Mike?
MIKE: Yeah, Crow?
CROW: That's Kokomo Scrapper Slim.
MIKE: Oh, sorry; yeah, Kokomo?
CROW: I think our 88 man, Pinetop Servo, just ain't gettin' into the right
      way of livin' and bein' the blues.
MIKE: What do you mean?
CROW: Well, he's playing a harpsichord, for one thing.
MIKE: Uh, yeah. I think you've got a point. [Lights begin to flash.]
MAGIC VOICE: Commercial sign now. 

[Mike hits the button.]

TOM (singing): For your love ....

COMMERICIALS for Zima, Clothestime, Mentos, and Comedy Central's salute to  
alleged comedian Richard Belzer.

[Back on Sat o'Love. An argument is in progress.]

GYPSY: Pinetop, just hear Blind Lemon Meringue out.

[Slight pause; Crow nudges Mike.]

CROW: That's you, Mike.
MIKE: Huh? Oh, right. Look, Tom, ...
TOM: Pinetop, it's Pinetop.
MIKE: Right, Pinetop; the problem is that Gypsy "Sugar" Smith is belting out
      her signature tune, a raunchy, sexy, Etta James-ish cover of Robert
      Johnson's "32-20 Blues", including the musical growling and grunting,
      and you were *way* out in left field playing The Kinks' "David Watts".
TOM: Well, I feel the time is right to introduce certain elements of baroque
      music into the genre. I mean, if Stevie Ray Vaughn can be considered a
      bluesman, ...
CROW: Geez, that's the whole point, Servo! I mean, Stevie Ray Vaughn may
      have been influenced more by Hendrix than by Blind Blake, but at least
      they came out of a blues tradition. That stuff you were playing was
      influenced only by a bunch of big-haired British nancy-boys who wear
      makeup and lace and who think Mark Bolan is cool! Your music has less
      to do with the blues than The DeFranco Family's.
TOM: That, sir, is an insult I cannot take! Tell the trades I'm leaving over
      musical differences!

[Lights begin to flash]

GYPSY: Quiet, you guys, Jake and Elwood are calling.

[Cut to Deep-13. Frank and Dr. Forrester are dressed as fake heavy metal
 dudes: spandex, big-Bon-Jovi hair, pretty boy t-shirts, etc.]

DR F: Ah, Nelson. Not too sure about your little lesson. After all, can a
      red 'bot sing the blues?
FRANK: Hey, do you guys take requests? I'd love to hear "Did You Ever Know
      You Were My Hero"; you know, like Bette Midler did it?
DR F: Oh, shove it up your Musicland, Frank, and show them the invention.
FRANK: Done. You know, when you are serious, hardcore, sold-your-soul-to-
      corporate-rock-and-roll band guys like us, you have a lot of trouble
      writing those sensitive love songs to get the chicks and make the
      bucks.
DR F: The babes are always hanging around; we never have to act sensitive
      and gooey to get metal sluts. It's great, granted, but you forget how
      to woo women with that tried and true standby: overly-sensitive bull
      that even Hallmark would find too saccharin and then turning it into a
      pop hit. That's why we've invented: The Schlock and Rolling-in-Dough
      Music Machine. [Dr. F points to a 2' square box with a lid on top, a
      crank on each side, and a slot for paper to come out.] Just enter the
      ingredients into the top, close the lid, turn the two handles, and
      voila! Instant Top 40 and AOR radio fodder. What do we have today, 
      Frank?

[Frank lifts a shoebox.]

FRANK: Well, this is a contract job from Rod Stewart. We've got a miniature
      dobro [lifts it out of box, puts into Machine], a bit of winter air
      [puts small clear vial of air into Machine], a pound of saccharin
      [into Machine], and the numbers of his Swiss bank accounts. [Closes
      lid.]
DR F: Now, we turn the handles, [they do so] and out comes [Dr F picks up
      paper] "Mandolin Wind", a song that will make even a supermodel half
      your age go gaga over your ugly mug. Now, for your post.

[Back on Sat-O-Love. Tom is dressed as Kublai Khan, Gypsy as Cleopatra, Crow
 as Frederick the Great of Prussia, and Mike as a sort of idealized 15th
 century Italian Renaissance man, like, say, a de Medici. Except for the
 tassles, of course.]

MIKE: But what about our fully functioning time machine?

[Back in Deep 13. Frank is now tuning a guitar.]

DR F: No time. Your post today is a series from John_-_Winston, net.loon and
      denture wearer. Hit the button, Frank.

[Frank grabs the guitar by the neck and bangs it on the console.]

[On Sat O'Love. Lights, sirens, etc]

MIKE: Oh, no! Usenet siiiiiiiign!

[Through the doors 6...5...4...3...2...1...]

[In front of a screen which will show the original post, we see a silhouette
 of a row of theater seats. Mike, Tom and Crow, also in silhoutte, enter
 from the right and sit down.]

>From: John_-_Winston@cup.portal.com

TOM: Oh, man, not *another* _-_Winston!
MIKE: Okay, guys, no spelling or grammar flames. With a John_-_Winston,
      there  is always enough material anyway.
CROW: Why, Mike! They're the most fun!
MIKE: Because the spellchecker is buggy, and we don't need the return
      flames.

>Newsgroups: alt.pagan,alt.dreams,alt.mythology,alt.fan.john-winston

MIKE: Hold on, this guy actually has FANS?!
CROW: Well, so do the Dallas Mavericks...
TOM: You know, he *might* have created that group himself.
MIKE: D'you really think so?
TOM (shrugging): Well, probably not, but it wouldn't surprise me.
CROW: Uh, Servo, how can you shrug when your arms don't work?

>Subject: B. Creme.

TOM (sings): In a white room, with black curtains...

>Message-ID: <114268@cup.portal.com>

CROW: Message-EGO: <inflated@large.big.huge>

>Date: Tue, 14 Jun 94 20:21:40 PDT

MIKE: I'm Dan Rather. Our top story tonight, ...

>Organization: The Portal System (TM)

TOM: Portal! Portal! Portal! '92!
MIKE (chuckling): My Uncle Al used to drink that.

>References: <84562@cup.portal.com> <84576@cup.portal.com>
>  <110007@cup.portal.com> <CovBA0.8En@cuug.ab.ca> <110330@cup.portal.com>
>  <113304@cup.portal.com>

CROW: Oh, great. The first post in this series and he's already making more
      self-references than Sting.

>Lines: 196

ALL (singing): Line! Line! Everywhere a line!

>Xref: news.gsfc.nasa.gov alt.pagan:35070 alt.dreams:9362 alt.mythology:4950

TOM: Hey look! Good golly, it's Molly!
MIKE: Huh? Oh, yeah. The Allman Brothers did that song first, though.
TOM: True, but I prefer the Molly Hatchett version.
       (sings) Woke up this morning, ...

>Subject: Creme:

MIKE: And now, the obligatory 20-minute Ginger Baker drum solo!

>  Here is some information that was on the Net

CROW: Oh, well, it *must* be true if it was on the Net.

>that is super controversial

TOM: It claims John_-_ knows what he's talking about.

>and guaranteed

MIKE: Or your money back.

>to get you kicked out of the front door of a church.

CROW: That's nothing; I can use three words and get kicked out of any
      Hooters in the world.
MIKE: Don't say it.
CROW: But they're all clean!
MIKE: I don't wanna know...
TOM: Yes you do.
MIKE: Well, okay, I do, but I don't want to admit it.

>
>
>
>          @@@@@@@@@             @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@   |
>       @@@@@@@@@@@@@@          @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@  |
>     @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@        @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@  |
>    @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@          @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@   | SHARE INTERNATIONAL
>   @@@@@@@@@@@@                      @@@@@@@        |       magazine
>   @@@@@@@@@@                        @@@@@@@        |
>   @@@@@@@@@@@                       @@@@@@@        |
>    @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@                 @@@@@@@        |
>      @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@               @@@@@@@        |---------------------
>        @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@             @@@@@@@        |
>              @@@@@@@@@@@            @@@@@@@        |
>               @@@@@@@@@@            @@@@@@@        |
>             @@@@@@@@@@@@            @@@@@@@        |
>      @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@        @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@   |  "a clear voice of
>     @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@        @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@  |    the new time"
>      @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@          @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@  |
>        @@@@@@@@@@              @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@   |

TOM: Hey, cool, the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue is here!
CROW: Oh, nuts, Kathy Ireland isn't this year's cover.
MIKE: Darn; she was probably too busy with her voice lessons. Who is this 
      year's cover?
CROW: Suzanne Vega.
TOM: Boy, looks like NOW used a lot of pressure on Time/Life.
MIKE: Look on the bright side. If Martina Navratalova had used a lot of
      pressure, Bea Arthur would be on the cover.

>**************************************************************************
>JUNE 1994 issue                                         Volume 13 Number 5
>**************************************************************************

CROW: An issue which will live in infamy...

>
>This is an abridged, electronic version of SHARE INTERNATIONAL magazine.
>

TOM: Batteries and common sense not included.

>The magazine has a non-paid staff

MIKE (hopefully): Infection?

>only, carries no advertisements

CROW: It only prints them

>and is
>published by SHARE INTERNATIONAL FOUNDATION,

TOM: An organization that is truly full of ShIF!
MIKE: Um, ...
TOM: Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.

>a non-profit,
>non-governmental organization in association with

MIKE: Quinn Martin

>the Department of Public
>Information at the United Nations.

CROW: Yes, we will give you all the information about the public that the
      United Nations will let us tell.

>
>SHARE INTERNATIONAL is a monthly magazine,

MIKE: Published through the Children's Television Workshop

>bringing together the two major
>directions of New Age thinking -- 

TOM: Barney and Mr. Rogers.
MIKE: New Age thinking - truly an oxymoron for the '90s.

>the political, and the spiritual.  It
>covers news, events and

CROW: Unsightly stains.

>comments bearing on Maitreya's priorities:

TOM: "Hello, I am Inago Maitreya, you killed my father. My top priority is
      to prepare you to die."

>an
>adequate supply of the right food;

CROW: Sandwiches?!
MIKE: Whatever did I give the wife?

>adequate housing and shelter for all;

CROW: Free cable for those who commit rape and murder;

>healthcare and education as a universal right;

TOM: Yes, even those who eat Cheez Doodles and watch tv all day should not
      have to pay for expensive healthcare.

>the maintenance of
>ecological balance in the world.

CROW (English accent): It's ecology repairman!

>
>Abridged

TOM (singing): over troubled waters, ...

>hard-copy versions available in Dutch, French, German, Japanese
>and Spanish.

MIKE: Now the whole world can enjoy America's shameless tabloid television.

>
>SHARE INTERNATIONAL has two general editors:

CROW (Patton voice): You! Who's the first general editor?

>Peter Liefhebber,

MIKE: A widower who enjoys fine dining and long walks on the beach

>a Dutch
>journalist concerned with the creation of a new world economic order;

CROW: Better known as Karl Marx.

>and
>Benjamin Creme, British artist, esotericist and author.

TOM: And originally the fourth member of the band, who left right before the
      "Disraeli Gears" sessions.

>His challenging
>message has evoked a world-wide response:

ALL: PLEASE SHUT JOHN_-_WINSTON UP!

>Maitreya, the World Teacher, is
>now among us in full physical presence.
>

MIKE: Hide you daughters!

>------------------------------------------------------------------------

TOM: Uh, John_-_. John_-_? You've fallen asleep on the dash key, John_-_.
CROW: Hey, Servo, if he has, then let him sleep.

>
>TABLE OF CONTENTS

MIKE: Chapter One: The Gathering Storm.

>
>The era of light

CROW: Less filling!
MIKE: Tastes great!
TOM: This open ought to be closed.
MIKE: Marv, we hardly knew ye. *sniff*

>by the Master --

CROW: THe mAstEr WOulD NoT ApProVe Of tHis POsT.
MIKE: Crow, how do you do that with your voice?
CROW: Can't say; union rules.

>
>Facts and Forecasts

TOM: Fact: none of these forcasts are worth the electrons used to print them
      on your screen!

>
>Questions & Answers

MIKE: Well, the obvious question is, why does John_-_ do this?
CROW: Read the book!

>
>Background Information

TOM: Well, there was John_-_'s being raised by wolves, his lack of toilet
      training, his kidnapping at the hand of rogue gypsies, his ...
GYPSY (popping into view): What?
MIKE: Uh, sorry, Gypsy, not you.
GYPSY: Oh... [Leaves]

>
>Hard-copy subscription information

CROW: That doesn't have anything to do with _Gallery_, does it?
MIKE: Hush, boy.

>
>------------------------------------------------------------------------

CROW: J.J. Cale, your table and razor are ready...

>
>(Through these electronic files,

TOM: Ve shall rule ze vorld! Viz David Duke on our zide, ...

>the magazine Share International makes

MIKE: It's own gravy.
TOM and CROW: Mmmmmmmm, gravy.

>available a compilation of its contents.  Permission is given to reproduce

TOM: Be fruitful and multiply, my children.

>these articles in magazine, newspaper or

MIKE: Cocktail napkins

>newsletter format, provided that
>credit is given to

CROW: "... my psychoanalyst, who has ... get these Spiders OFFA ME!!!"

>Share International and clippings

TOM: Make a fine mulch.
MIKE: And that's good for your garden.
TOM: Where's Heywood Banks when you really need him?

>are sent to:  PO Box
>41877, 1009 DB Amsterdam, Holland.  Copyright

CROW (Dutch accent): Ya, ve kuupy right, Pigpen, g(oe)d b(oe)dy.
TOM: Oh, great, a European version of _Convoy_.
MIKE: By Charles Dikkens with two k's, the well-known Dutch author.

>(c) 1994 Share
>International.  All Rights Reserved.)

TOM: But they *really* cut loose at parties.

>
>------------------------------------------------------------------------

TOM (whispering): You think he's fallen asleep again?
CROW: I hope.

>
>THE ERA OF LIGHT

CROW: Aw, shoot.

>by the Master - -, through Benjamin Creme

MIKE: Uh oh, looks like a snuff post. Parents, unless your kids can handle
      the alt.sex groups, put them to bed now.

>
>Down the ages,

TOM: and up the academy!

>man has ever sought the light

CROW: sweet taste of Sprite.

>which he senses to substand
>his ignorance and fear.

MIKE: Hm, ignorance and fear. Well, those two things certainly belong in a
      John_-_Winston post.
TOM: Yes, his_-_ ignorance of the facts, and our fear the he_-_ will never
      shut up.

>When threatened by some dark and awesome
>catastrophe,

CROW: Or in times of deep personal stupidity, the Red Cross is there!

>real or imagined,

TOM: Any bets on John_-_'s fears being real or imagined?
MIKE: His fear of me and my Louisville slugger better be real if I get back
      to Earth ...

>he instinctively turns inwards,

TOM: Aw, yuck!

>invokes the
>light of his soul,

CROW: and accidentally lights the filter tip.

>and seeks guidance therefrom.

TOM  (singing): Vocational guidance councillooooooor.............
MIKE (singing):       Vocational guidance councillooooooor.......
CROW (singing):             Vocational guidance councillooooooor.

>Such action is but
>natural,

MIKE: if rather disgusting.

>for deep within the consciousness of every man, woman and child

CROW: lies a deep, burning hatred for John_-_Winston and his infernal posts.

>lies the awareness of being a soul.

TOM (singing): Don't give up on us, ba-by.

>As progress upon the evolutionary
>path is made,

MIKE: Somehow, I think John_-_ must get his info on being evolved from other
      sources.

>that certainty deepens, the conscious link

TOM: Miss Piggy?
MIKE: Dr. Strangepork?
TOM: Chief?
CROW: McCloud?

>between the soul
>and its reflection strengthens, and the light of the soul

CROW: It's new Soul Light, with half the calories and none of the fat.

>the more readily
>is contacted and known.  Thus the light of understanding grows.

MIKE: Until the unwashed masses crush it like a cockroach.

>
>        Humanity stands now on the threshold of an era

TOM: History will call it: The Disinformation Age.

>in which that light
>of consciousness

CROW: Hm, I wasn't aware of that.

>will manifest on an increasing scale,

MIKE: I'd prefer a blues scale.
CROW: Yeah.

>expressing itself
>in every field of human endeavour

MIKE: In spite of our fondest wishes.

>as a growing awareness of the meaning
>and purpose of life on Planet Earth.

CROW: It's pudding; we're not sure why.

>Many, now, are aware of a higher and
>higher stimulus,

[All three turn to each other and whistle, clear throats, etc.]

>edging them ever nearer to an understanding of themselves
>and their environment.

TOM: If only John_-_ were so lucky to be among them.

>
>        Many are awakening to a new-found freedom

MIKE (falsetto): Thank goodness for Stay-Free minipads!

>on the super-mundane
>realms and, in faith, experiment in areas hitherto unknown.

CROW: I didn't know Timothy Leary was so into this New Age garbage!

>Dangers there
>are in such untrained endeavour,

MIKE: Now *why* would they put untrained people on a space shuttle?
CROW (whispering): That's not capitalized.
MIKE (whispering): Oh, sorry.

>but, slowly 

TOM: ... I turned, step by step, ...

>and surely, the nature of
>Reality is being revealed to the enquiring public,

MIKE: In spite of local obscenity laws.
CROW: And don't call me Shirley.

>the new discoveries are
>being absorbed,

TOM: Uh oh, looks like Nancy Walker was here...

>and a steady advance is under way on a wide scale.

MIKE: Hey, General, where are you advancing?
CROW (Patton voice): I'm goin' straight to Berlin to shoot that
      paper-hangin' son of a bitch!

>
>        We Who watch

TOM (high-pithced, nerdy voice): Oh, yes yes O yes... Oh mommy. Oh-hoh, my
      binocly-ers are all steamed up.
CROW: You did that too well for my comfort, Servo.
TOM: Mine too, actually ...

>from the inner side of life are heartened by this
>evidence of response to Our work.

MIKE: Man, did he lift this from a Moody Blues album?

>Ours has been the task to guide men

CROW: And smuggle women.
TOM: "smuggle"?
CROW: I meant "snuggle".
MIKE: Hey, I told you the spellchecker is buggy.

>safely through this most difficult time of transition, ...

TOM: To obscure the truth with psuedo-scientific psychobabble,

>to help them clear
>the hurdles which each succeeding stage presents,

MIKE: To create a light and tasty snack cake, ...

>and so prepare them to
>become co-workers with Us.

CROW: Wal-Mart is going just a *bit* too far these days...

>
>
>Progress

TOM (reading): Doctor's report on John_-_Winston: the lithium and
      electroshock have not helped as much as we had hoped, in spite of
      tripling the amps. Patient still suffering from wild delusions and
      tight underwear. Recommended: public ridicule and a slow execution.

>
>Despite all appearances:

MIKE: I did bathe this morning.

>despite the many travesties of justice, the
>iniquities and savage cruelties which pertain,

CROW: Congress votes itself another pay raise in the fight against the
      deficit.

>man has made real progress
>on his onward path.

MIKE: But off his offward path, man is a real slackard and refuses to stop
      for directions.

>With Our Advent,

CROW: Who art in Heaven, Harold be Thy name.

>the momentum of this progress will
>multiply a thousandfold,

TOM: In spite of the most basic laws of physics.

>and, in growing wonder,

MIKE: And increasing cynicism,
CROW: And rising lunches, 

>man will learn to create
>in the full light of his soul.

TOM (British accent): "man, is it really necessary to have the light on when
      you're creating?"
CROW (British accent): "Well... yeah!"
TOM (British accent): "Why, what are you planning to do? Pho-to-synthesize?"
MIKE: Join us next week for another installment of "Young Ones Theatre".

>Thus will it be.

CROW: Because I said so! I'm the god! I'M THE GOD!!!!

>Thus will men achieve
>that which has been ordained:

MIKE (singing a Schoolhouse Rock ditty): ... and established, this
      Constitution of the ... 
ALL (singing): United States of A-merica.

>partnership with the Divine, 

TOM (imitating Divine): "You have been found guilty of the greatest crime
      known to mankind: assholism!"
MIKE: I didn't know you were a John Waters fan, Servo.
TOM: Well, it's not really something you can talk about in public.

>and thus, too,
>will men satisfy their longing for

CROW: Eh... heh heh heh.

>light, for the direct expression of
>their nature as souls.

MIKE: Hi, I'm George Page for _Nature_.

>
>        Whatever hinders the full expression of that nature will gradually
>fall away and be surpassed.

CROW: Help! Help! I'm being surpassed!

>The key to such progress lies

TOM: ... damn lies, and statistics.

>in right
>relationship, and, little by little,

MIKE (singing): I can breathe again!

>that is beginning to dawn on the
>enquiring minds of men.

TOM: Elvis worshipped by Martians who helped the Egyptians build the
      pyramids?
MIKE: Madonna marries Bigfoot is secret Idaho wedding?
CROW: "I was Ted Koppel's love slave" says Princess Di?
ALL: Enquiring minds want to know!

>Many now see clearly the only forward path.

MIKE: They should always check in their rearview mirrors.
CROW: Why don't they look?

>These, the vanguard,

MIKE: Or the Trident. Just a little joke for the lads at BALPA House.

>will show the way for the others, and so herald the
>establishment of the era of light.

TOM (singing, while Crow mimics Jeff Healey's guitar):
      Can you see the light? 
      Can you see the light
      of love shining in my eyes?

>
>
>FACTS AND FORECASTS

MIKE: Oooooo, I hope Jeanetta Jones shows up...

>_Share International_ 

CROW: Hoard local.

>regularly prints articles

MIKE: But like Playboy, these articles go entirely unnoticed.
TOM: For far different reasons, though.
MIKE: True.

>outlining Maitreya's
>expectations 

CROW: Oh, wonderful, like everyone really wants to read about some loon's
      spittle.

>concerning political, social, environmental and spiritual
>changes in the world.

TOM: Wouldn't CNN be a lot cheaper and more convenient?
MIKE: Not to mention more accurate...

>
>        In this section,

CROW: I thee wed.

>"Facts and forecasts", our staff monitors news,

TOM: ... with Chad Slabbody and Mindy Dyejob, Accu-weather with Hank
      Norbert, and sports with Red Ruffinsore.

>events and comments bearing on Maitreya's insights.

MIKE: And once Maitreya is in your sights, just squeeze the trigger.
CROW: You are REALLY getting dark, Nelson.
TOM: Yeah. I like it.

>For a complete
>picture we refer you to

CROW: The Louvre

>previous issues.  This month's overview covers the

TOM (British accent): Naughty bits of Margaret Thatcher, who cannot be seen.

>period from early April to early May.

MIKE: Girls are so cute at that age.

>
>
>"It was like the second coming"
>-------------------------------

[All three just shake their heads and chuckle.]
TOM: Ladies and gentlemen, we present you with another slow hanging
      curveball right over of the middle of the plate.

>
>"In South Africa, confrontation will eventually give way to consensus."
>(Maitreya's associate in _Share International_, June 1988)

MIKE: He said that in 1988? Geez. I mean, if he had said it in 1972 or even
      1980...
TOM: Seriously.
CROW: I like how he just said "eventually". Given enough time, a prediction 
      as general as that will come true.

>
>"Although outwardly clashes and divergent views hold sway,

TOM (singing): "It's just that demon wine that's got you in it's sway."

>inwardly a
>process has begun in South Africa which will lead white and black leaders
>to the negotiating table."  (September 1988)

CROW: "We got free homebrew!"

>
>"The jubilation in my soul knew no bounds.

MIKE: It jumped out of my body and frightened a passing child.

>I cried, I danced, 

TOM: I give it a thumbs up!

>I
>rapturously sang _Nkosi Sikeleli Afrika_, South Africa's new national
>anthem,

CROW: I realized the translation of the title was "Now We Can Get A Bunch of
      Israel's Free American Money".

>as I witnessed the historic and unforgettable sight of millions of
>blacks voting for the first time in their homeland.

MIKE: Amazing how many voted for Perot...

>It was a moment to be
>savoured for a lifetime, to relate, misty-eyed,

ALL (singing): In the not too distant future, ...

>to one's grandchildren.

CROW: I saw the blacks' first vote in South Africa. When does Matlock come
      on? I had jello today. Where's my World's Fair spoon? Is Vaughn Monroe
      on The Jack Paar Show tonight?

>It was like the Second Coming.

TOM: Uh-HUH.

>The polling stations scattered across
>South Africa seemed like so many images of Jesus

MIKE: painted on black velvet and reaching down to welcome Elvis...

>drawing to his side
>multitudes of the weak, the hungry, the poor, the infirm, the desperate,
>the illiterate, the disenfranchised;

CROW: Y'know, Jesus is a nice guy and all, but I'm afraid he's been hanging
      out with the wrong crowd.

>promising them hope, justice, peace,
>equality, and plenty."

MIKE: However, it just turned out to be resurrection-year rhetoric.

>(Source:  South African writer Mark Mathabane in
>Newsweek magazine, USA)
>
>        "Heaven is smiling on South Africa," 

TOM: 'cause God just put a "Kick Me" sign on the Transvaal.

>said a women in the South
>African township of Soweto, after the first all-race election in the
>nation's history.

CROW (as Stadler): Hey, who won those all-race elections?
TOM (as Waldorf): The hundred yard dash

[Both laugh like the two old guys from The Muppet Show]

MIKE: I don't think I will ever understand you two.

>Millions of South Africans went to the polls

TOM: Demanding that Zima be vanquished from their land or they were
      returning to apartheid.

>in a
>historic referendum,

MIKE: The Indiana Legislature declared "pi" to legally be 3.

>which brought an end to 342 years of white minority
>rule, and carried Nelson Mandela and his African National Congress (ANC)
>to power.

TOM: Unfortuantely, de Klerk had forgotten to pay the last electric bill, so
      power was quickly cut off.

>The ANC garnered approximately two-thirds of the votes cast,
>with F.W. de Klerk's National Party receiving approximately 20 per cent.

MIKE: There was also a surprisingly large write-in vote for Pat Paulson.

>Mandela, as South Africa's new President,

CROW: Immediately called the Houston Rockets to congratulate them for
      winning the NBA title.

>includes members of the ANC, the
>National Party, as well as the Zulu party, Inkatha, in his new cabinet.

MIKE: The Communists and Socialists were told to stay in the closet.

>
>De Klerk, the outgoing President, was appointed one of the country's new
>deputy Presidents.

CROW (Don Knotts voice): Well, Nelson, a law-man's work is never done. Now,
      where's my bullet? I'm just gonna call Juanita over at the diner.

>
>        In conceding defeat to the ANC, de Klerk said:

TOM: "I'm not a vampire, I'm really a driving instructor from Johannesburg."

>"I hold out my
>hand to Mr Mandela in friendship and in co-operation.

MIKE: Pick a card, any card.

>...A power greater
>than man has given South Africa the spirit,

CROW: The Stealth, the Lancer, the Acclaim. Just a few of the fine products
      from The Chrysler Corporation.

>the chance to go forward in
>peace.  God Almighty has been kind to us.

TOM: Then why did He let you suffer all those years?!?!
MIKE: Easy, Servo, settle down...

>Now it is up to the political
>leaders to join together for the good of

CROW: Our political cronies.

>our people and complete the task
>of healing and reconciliation." At an election victory rally, Nelson
>Mandela said:

MIKE: "Kegger at Bishop Tutu's! Wooooo!"

>"This is indeed a joyous night for the human spirit ....

TOM: Tom Arnold's show has just been cancelled.

>We must without delay begin to build a better life for all South Africans."

CROW: Hand me the beltsander.

>With the widow of Martin Luther King at his side, he quoted the words of
>the US civil rights leader:

TOM: "Tell U2 to quit singing that blasted 'Pride' song!"

>"Free at last!"

MIKE: It's a 2-for-1 sale at Penneys!

>(Sources:  USA Today; San
>Francisco Chronicle, USA)
>
>Part 1.

CROW: Chicago 3, in overtime.

>JW  Well what did you think of it?

MIKE (making OK sign): It stinks!
TOM: Let's get out of here.

[They begin to leave.]

>John Winston.

CROW: Reads real bad, like a ... cigarette ad.

[1...2...3...4...5...6...]

[Mike and the three bots are standing behind the Sat O'Love counter]

TOM: Mike, there is something about this post that is really bothering me.
CROW: Just one thing?
TOM: Well, several things, actually.
MIKE: Like what?
TOM: Well, for starters, this was originally cross-posted to alt.mythology,
      right?
MIKE: Yeah ...
TOM: SO WHAT THE HECK DOES ANY OF THIS CRAP HAVE TO DO WITH MYTHOLOGY?!?!?!
GYPSY: Well, John_-_ does live in another reality.
MIKE: True, but from what I understand, Winston is just one sick puppy, and
      thinks that the ancients' worship of their gods is related to all his
      "higher learning" and UFO crap. I wouldn't hazard a guess as to why he
      REALLY posts this garbage on the mythology group. I don't read his
      spewage when I can avoid it. He's worse than the Knicks and Sonics
      fans on the pro basketball group, and that is paTHETic. Of course,
      everyone who reads the mythology group knows that John_-_ is so full
      of it his eye color must be brown.
CROW: Hm, I bet now that McElwaine is gone, John_-_ must be the most common
      name in kill files across America.
MIKE: Probably. I tell you what, so we can break with tradition and actually
      have something relevant to the newsgroup in a Winston post, why don't
      you three write an essay about your favorite pagan god or goddess, and
      if you do well enough, you can each have a delicious RAMchip.

[General verbal chaos as the bots cheer, yell "Yes!", chant "RAMchips!
 RAMchips!", etc.]

MIKE: Which diety are you going to write about, Gypsy?
GYPSY: Richard Basehart! Richard Basehart!
MIKE: Uh, Gyps honey, he isn't a god.
GYPSY (crushed): Oh...
CROW: Nice one, Nelson...
MIKE: Okay, Crow, which god will you discuss?
CROW: Clapton.
TOM: Eric Clapton?!
MIKE: Crow, Eric Clapton is a guitarist, not a diety.
CROW: Hey, as we all know, "Clapton is God".
MIKE: I have a picture of a dog and a wall that I need to show you. What
      about you, Servo?
TOM: Maybe Cu Chulainn.
MIKE: I think he was more a hero than a god.
TOM: Oh, well, Thomas a' Beckett, then.
MIKE: He was an archbishop.

[Lights for commercial sign begin to flash.]

TOM: King Arthur?
MIKE: We have some things to talk about. We'll be right back.

[Hits button. Commercials.]

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