Subject: Re: music as a process of religion (was RE: Kurt Cobain)
From: Gene Woo (pariah1980@yahoo.com)
Date: Wed Jan 05 2000 - 21:37:15 EST
> Not only that, but am part of the Jim collective.
> No one is safe. Muaha.
> Seriously though, Noodle Boy is the most holy of all
> insane noodley things.
> It's so great to read his little rants and stuff. I
> urge all of you to be a
> nice happy cabbage, and pick up the Johnny The
> Homicidal Maniac comic book
> collection type thingie. It's dark humour at it's
> best.
And to think I was crazy for buying that wierd issue
by that publishing company I never heard of. With
comics like these, who needs marvel or D.C.(though I
love some of their stuff too). By the way, here's one
of my posts from my club on yahoo:
quotesfromallwalksoflife
(cough, cough, plug, cough, cough, lol)
http://clubs.yahoo.com/clubs/quotesfromallwalksoflife
"JTHM" started out as an underground comic book from
the lesser known bay area publishing group Slave Labor
Graphics. I started buying and collecting the series
because of the great artwork, awesome writing(violent,
satirical, and even compassionate at times), and it's
original ideas. Johnny is a serial killer that lives
in a home. He targets various people that piss him off
or annoy him: snobby club goers, door to door
surveyors, etc... The comic deals with a lot of issues
like depression, suicide, loneliness, etc... Each
issue ends with him writing in his diary. Johnny, or
Nny as he likes to be called, goes on many adventures.
He realizes the living evil in his house that is
behind his maniacal urges. He faces it only to be
killed. He goes to heaven and hell where he is told
that he is a "flusher." someone who doesn't quite fit
in with either area but is constantly regurgitated
back into the world. When he was alive, he had this
feeling that he couldn't die. He tried suicide, but
something always came up to prevent it. Anyway, I'm
not really that suicidal or kill crazy, and Mr.
Vasquez is really a nice normal guy in person( I met
him at a San Diego Comic Con), but this story is one
of the most originals I've ever read. Here are the
diary entries for the entire issue(1-7); in no order
at all.
"Dear Diary. The passions that drive us should be the
ones we respect and admire. To feel contempt for one's
own motivations is a vulgur thing. Too often, it seems
I've succumbed to less than admirable compulsions
driven by this furiously reprehensible machine of
mine. So many things inside that I can do
without-desires and urges and whatnot. So extraneous.
By the time I write in this book again, I hope to be
as cold as the moon that lights this page."
"Dear Diary. Today I stuffed some dolls full of dead
rats I put in the blender. I'm wondering if there
really is something wrong with me."
"Dear Die-ary. I've been to Heaven and Hell... And I
still don't know if there is a God or a Devil.
Still...
It's something to write about."
"Dear Diary. I know better than to simply assume a
complete justification for my actions, but... what a
week. What a great fucking week."
"Sometimes... You can cry until there is nothing wet
left in you. You can scream and curse to where your
throat rebels and ruptures. You can pray, all you
want, to whatever God you think will listen. And still
it makes no difference. It goes on, with no sign as to
when it might release you. And you know that if it
ever did relent... It would not be because it cared.
(-written in blood before everything went black.)"
"Dear Diary. I seem to be dead."
"Dear Die-ary. I stared motionless before the mirror.
As always, I stayed until I'm convinced that there
is no glass, nothing, separating me from the room I
see on the other side. I imagine that everything is
different over there. Better. There are people, in
that world, who I would like. But, like always, my
hands hits that glass. I know that if I'd only waited
just one more second... Shit. I'm gonna go kill a
party
clown."
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